The Devil Game
by dudeurfugly
Summary: Sequel to 'Beautiful Disaster'. Alyx and Oliver thought senior year would be a breeze, but when strange things start happening at their school, it turns into a year of supernatural chaos.
1. Chapter 1

The Devil Game 

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, only Alyx and Oliver. **

**Summary: Alyx and Oliver thought senior year would be a breeze. Apparently, nothing is that easy when you're a hunter. Strange things start happening at their high school, turning it into a year of supernatural chaos. **

Summer vacation.

The two and a half months out of the year when students are completely done with homework, teachers, annoying classmates, tests, and quizzes.

In other words, freedom.

Only I wasn't so lucky. Oh, no. 'Cause there's that evil thing called summer school. And since Oliver and I missed about a month of classes because of our little trip out of town to kick demon ass, we had to endure a whole month of this torture to make up everything.

I thought I was going to die. Seriously, I _never_ want to experience summer school _ever_ again. A word to the wise: if you can avoid it, do _not_ end up there. It's not a fun place to be, especially when you don't enjoy school in the first place.

Luckily, today was our last day. Once the clock hit three, we practically bolted out of the building. I had to call my dad to pick us up, since _I_ didn't drive us this morning. Dad took away the keys to _my_ baby for the entire month—on top of grounding me for two weeks—as punishment for the car chase in San Antonio and getting arrested. Talk about unfair.

I was surprised to see Sammy in the driver's seat of the Impala and my dad nowhere in sight. Confused, I hopped into the passenger's seat, while Oliver got in the back.

"Where's Dad?" I asked, as we drove away from the school. I was _so_ happy to be leaving.

"He's at home," Sam replied, shaking his head and smirking a bit, "Plotting something."

"What? Like a hunt?" I questioned.

"No. Something more…_normal_, from the looks of it," Sam laughed. I grimaced. My dad and the word 'normal' are not usually heard in the same sentence. The fact that he was planning something that supposedly didn't involve the paranormal made me slightly afraid. "And he seems very excited about it."

Oh, good lord. Help us all…

A/N: Sorry it's so short…lol…I wonder if anyone can guess what Dean's plotting. You'll find out in the next chapter. It'll be fun, I promise.


	2. Chapter 2

When we pulled into the driveway, I was almost scared to go in. What exactly was my father planning in that mind of his?

Oliver and I glanced at each other before the three of us entered the house. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that Oliver lives with us now. After Lily Devereaux's funeral, Dad agreed to let him take up residence in the guestroom, for a monthly fee of twenty-five dollars. He has no other family, and he didn't want to be a burden to Missouri (she offered numerous times to take him in.), so Dad actually came up with the idea.

Dad and Oliver are friends now, which is hard to believe. Dad stopped being hostile toward him. He really likes the fact that I found a guy who is into mullet rock and muscle cars. It helps that he's a hunter, too, I guess.

The three of us stepped into the kitchen, where Dad was leaning against the counter, grinning, as he read through some kind of brochure. I hoped to all that's holy that it wasn't friggin' Disneyland. Although, I don't think he'd go _that_ far.

"Hey, Dad. What's up?" I asked apprehensively. Dad closed the brochure and looked up with a smile.

"Hey, kiddo. How was your last day of summer school?"

"Boring, as usual," I answered. "What's that?" I pointed to the brochure.

"Well, I thought that we should take a little vacation. We deserve a break, you know, from everything." Dad said. Sam and I shot each other a look. This 'vacation', I guessed, was his way of celebrating our victory against the Demon.

"Oh," I said flatly. He handed me the brochure; I was afraid to look at it. I turned it over quickly, and saw the most amazing thing of my entire life. A huge grin spread across my face. "Oh my God! Oliver, look!" I shoved the brochure into his hands.

"Awesome! The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum in Cleveland." Oliver said, shocked. Dad nodded, and I started jumping up and down, squealing—yes, _squealing_—like a little kid. I was _so_ excited. I'd always wanted to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I remember bugging Dad to take me there constantly when we were out on the road on hunting trips. He always said no because we had work to do, and we didn't have the time nor the money to spend there.

I flung myself at Dad, giving him a hug.

"You. Are. Awesome." I told him.

"I know." I replied smugly.

"When do we leave?" Oliver asked.

"Tomorrow," Dad answered. I glanced at Sam; he was rolling his eyes. He was the only one out of the four of us that wasn't happy. He wasn't a fan of classic rock, obviously, so going on a road trip with us rock freaks wasn't his idea of a vacation. Oh well. Sorry Sammy. "And no crappy motels once we get to Cleveland." This made Sam perk up a bit. "Five-star Holiday Inn all the way, baby."

"Yes!" I said, slapping Oliver a high-five. "We're going to go pack." Oliver and I raced upstairs to get ready for an _actual_ vacation.

Dad got us up at a quarter to seven in the morning, and we trekked out to the Impala, still half-asleep, to load up the trunk with our luggage. We got dressed, ate breakfast, and hit the road as soon as possible. We had to drive from Lawrence to Cleveland, of course, because Dad is deathly afraid of flying. Not that I'm complaining. I mean, at least we were going somewhere that didn't involve hunting. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but after the ordeal with the Demon, Dad was right. We needed some kind of break for once.

When we were a few miles outside of Lawrence, I pulled Dad's box of cassette tapes out from under the back seat and started looking for something to listen to. I chose a random Zeppelin tape and leaned over the divider in the front between the seats to push it in. Sam grabbed it from me before I could succeed. The great debate over music had begun.

"No." he said, shaking his head.

"What? Why?" I asked, giving him a dirty look.

"You are _dragging_ me to the headquarters of mullet rock. The least you can do is hold off on this crap until we get there." Sam pointed out.

"_Sammy_! Come _on_!" I whined. Sam held it over his head. Even on my knees I couldn't reach. Damn him for being so freaking tall.

"Ally, seriously, you guys make me listen to this _every_ time we go on the road."

Oliver was in a fit of laughter throughout this argument. He thought it was hilarious, which it really was. I just liked arguing over music with my uncle to piss him off. It's highly entertaining.

"Yeah, because your music selection sucks." I stated. Dad laughed.

"That's my girl." He said proudly. Sam glared at him.

"It does _not_." Sam said defensively.

"_Bon Jovi_?" I supplied. "_Dave Matthews_? _John Mayer_?" I paused, smirking. "It's more like the greatest hits of _geek boy_ rock."

Dad was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes. Sam looked stunned, and had his jaw dropped in mock-hurt.

"Dude, she totally got you there." Dad said.

"You," Sam said, pointing an accusing finger at me, "are mean."

Ooooh. Nice comeback, Sammy. Very original…_not_.

"Sam, that was the most lame, childish comeback ever. What are you, five?" I countered. Sam pretended to look hurt again. "Aww, did I hurt 'lil Sammy's feelings?" I ruffled Sam's hair from behind, to mess with him more.

"I _will_ get out of this seat and lock you in the trunk, Alyx."

"No, you wont."

"Try me."

"You won't, and you can't Dad would beat you up, and Oliver would pick the lock." I stated matter-of-factly.

"You're such a smartass." He laughed.

"Yes, but I'm your _favorite_ smartass."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize...**

"Dude, come _on_! Drive the friggin' speed limit already!" Dad yelled. We were almost to Cleveland when we got stuck behind a huge, white, Hummer that was going thirty miles under the speed limit. We were the only ones on the road, stuck behind this guy. As you can imagine, Dad was getting pretty pissed off.

"This is ridiculous." Oliver muttered with a sigh. I silently agreed with him. Whoever was driving the car in front of us should obviously not be allowed to have a license if they can't even follow the simple rules of the road. Dad started to beep at the car, hoping the driver would get the idea to speed up. Unfortunately, this didn't work. To add to this problem, every time Dad tried to switch lanes, the other car would follow. No matter what he did, the Hummer was always in front of us.

Suddenly, the Hummer pulled over to the side of the road; obviously the driver wanted to talk to Dad, so Dad pulled over behind him, keeping a good amount of distance between the two cars. The driver's side door opened, and a man stepped out. However, the man wasn't the type of person that any of us had pictured driving this vehicle.

The man was about seventy-five years old; a tall, skinny, guy with thinning, white hair under a red bandana and huge glasses that magnified his eyes. That wasn't the best part, though. He was wearing tight, black, leather pants, biker boots, and a motorcycle jacket over a white T-shirt, as well as a black, studded belt. As he walked slowly over to the car, I noticed chipped, black nail polish on his nails, and a studded, leather choker around his neck.

"Oh, God…" Dad muttered, putting his face in his hand, trying hard not to laugh. As a matter of fact, all of us were doing our best to stifle our laughter, but it wasn't easy. I mean, it's not every day that you see an old man dressed like a punk. The man approached the window on Dad's side, and Dad rolled it down, offering his trademark smile. Ya know, the one where he knows that he's going to end up getting in trouble, but he acts all innocent anyway, and tries to talk himself out of it… "Uh, hi. What can I do for you, sir?" I love him for trying, but he wasn't going to get off on this one; the guy was so mad that he practically had steam coming out of his ears.

"Listen here, sonny," the man said, pointing his finger at Dad, "I've been driving for over fifty years! I don't need no hot-shot in some fancy muscle car beepin' at me!" When he hit the Impala's side mirror for emphasis, I thought Dad was going to jump out and smack him one, or at least start cursing or something, but he didn't. I knew Dad wouldn't hit an old man. He's not _that _rude.

"You were going 25 in a 55 mile zone!" Dad shouted.

"Don't you _dare_ talk back to your elders, son!"

"Okay, chill out, Sparky." Dad muttered, irritated.

"Don't tell me to 'chill out', boy! You should learn to respect the older citizens of this country!"

Oliver and I looked at each other, both of us rolling our eyes. Sam was looking out the passenger's side window so the guy couldn't see him laughing. The guy continued to rant about respecting elders and how rude Dad was being. I couldn't even understand half of the stuff he was saying; he was babbling incoherently, waving his finger in Dad's face. When he was done with his little speech, he walked away and got back into his Hummer. Dad rolled his eyes and pulled away quickly, the Impala's tires screeching on the blacktop. I knew Dad wanted to put distance between them before the guy got back on the road.

Luckily, we didn't have any other problems the rest of the way to Cleveland. We got there at around five, and drove to the downtown area to find the Holiday Inn where Dad had made reservations. Cleveland is a really beautiful city, so I didn't mind staring out the window as we drove. The buildings and the waterfront were amazing, and it was pretty crowded. There were a lot of people walking on the sidewalks, visiting interesting little shops and stores that lined the streets.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn, I began to get even more excited. It's sad, but in all my years, I have never stayed in a real hotel. I had grown up staying in crappy motels and had therefore gotten used to it. This vacation was going to be an experience.

We got our luggage out of the trunk, and walked inside. The lobby was huge, and very elegant. The place even had air conditioning! That was a relief, considering I had practically broken a sweat just walking from the car. It was sweltering in Cleveland during the summer. I had checked the weather reports before we left, and it said that the temperatures were going to be in the high eighties for our stay.

After Dad got the key to our room, we took an elevator up to the seventh floor, and walked along the hallway until we reached the correct room. Dad pushed the door open,(Insert heavenly, angelic chorus) and we all stood in the hallway, staring in awe, as if it was the greatest thing we had ever seen.

We stepped inside, shut the door, and threw our stuff in random places. It was a large room, complete with two queen-sized beds, a fold-out couch, plasma screen TV, a mini fridge, and a nice bathroom. The theme in the room was neutral and not at all out-dated or overly gaudy, unlike some other rooms that I've had the displeasure of staying in.

"This is awesome!" Dad said, plopping down on one of the beds. He grabbed the remote for the TV and laid there, channel surfing. Sam looked at Dad and shook his head. Oliver went to check out what was in the mini fridge while I went into the bathroom. The shower was nice; it even had one of those special shower heads so you could change how the water poured out. I exited the bathroom, and sat down on the edge of the bed that Dad was occupying.

"Dad, is there a pool?" I asked.

"Yeah, I think so…" he answered, eyes glued to the TV; it was on what I guessed was VH1.

"Cool. Hey, Oliver, you wanna check out the pool?" I asked. Oliver looked up from the room service menu and nodded.

"Sure." he replied. So, I changed into the black and red bikini that I had brought with me, just in case there would be a pool, and Oliver put on a pair of army fatigue swim trunks. We grabbed towels from the bathroom and headed out, promising to be back before dinner.

We took the elevator down to the lobby, and found that the pool was on the same level. There were a few adults already there, and a bunch of kids ranging in age also. Oliver and I decided to sit in the Jacuzzi instead, since it was unoccupied. It was incredibly relaxing, and I liked that I was able to be alone with my boyfriend for once. Not that I minded being around Dad or Sam, but after a long road trip, we needed some alone time.

"This is nice." Oliver said quietly.

"Mm-hmm." I agreed. Oliver pulled me closer to him; I was now sitting on his lap, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing.

This vacation had _definitely_ gotten better…and a few seconds ago, I didn't think that was possible.

Oliver cupped my face in his hands, deepening the kiss. I felt his arms encircle my waist as I ran my hands along his rock hard abs. He was fingering the top of my bikini bottoms as we continued to kiss. I grabbed his hand before he could go any further, shaking my head.

"I think we should go get ready for dinner." I suggested. He nodded, understanding.

"Okay." Oliver answered. We climbed out of the Jacuzzi, got dried off, and went back up to the room. Dad was half-asleep on a bed, and Sam was looking through a brochure on Cleveland. I retreated to the bathroom and got dressed, then Oliver changed as well. By that time, Dad was fully asleep, so I had to wake him up so we could go get something to eat.

The four of us ended up eating at a nice restaurant in downtown Cleveland. It was the first time in a long time that we didn't have dinner at a shady-looking diner, or some other fast food place. After dinner, we returned to the hotel to crash for the night.

There was a large debate on sleeping arrangements, seeing as how my boyfriend was with us. There were two, large beds, so I originally suggested that Dad and Sam take one and Oliver and I take the other. Dad didn't go for that idea, and neither did Sam. In the end, it was a very weird arrangement, if I do say so myself. Dad and I had one queen-sized bed, Sam had the other one to himself, and Oliver slept on the fold-out couch. I felt bad for him. I tried to reason with Dad (I told him repeatedly that nothing would happen.), but he seemed pretty adamant about Oliver and I not sharing the same bed.

So, I kept my mouth shut after he made the final decision, and climbed into bed. It was relatively early--only ten o'clock--but I knew we'd all need a good night's sleep before visiting the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame tomorrow.

**A/N: Next chapter they visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum! Any ideas on how Dean should react once they get inside or what comments the brothers should make is appreciated 'cause I'm having a bit of writer's block with that…p.s.--My younger brother came up with the idea for the old guy in the Hummer (He is also a big fan of Supernatural), so must give him credit for it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural or the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. **

I discovered that my father can sometimes be the most immature person on the face of this earth.

I made this startling revelation at about six-thirty in the morning. That unreasonable hour--especially for the summer--was the time when Dad decided to wake us up. Or, more correctly, the hour in which he chose to wake _me_ up. His method this time was a three step approach. First (the first two steps are according to my dad, since I didn't wake up for either of them), he ripped the blankets off the bed. Apparently, I only moved onto my side, and curled up into a ball. Secondly, he called my name a few times while shaking me. He said that I ignored him and rolled onto my stomach. And thirdly, he went over to the mini fridge and got out _several_ ice cubes from the ice bucket and proceeded to dump them down the back of my T-shirt.

I wanted to kill him.

I scrambled out of bed and started running around in circles, jumping up and down, trying to get the ice cubes out of my shirt, while yelping from the freezing sensation on my skin. It was a wonder that Sam and Oliver stayed asleep through the whole ordeal, with all of the noise that I was making. Once I retrieved the now half-melted ice cubes, I whipped them at Dad, who threw me an amused look.

"What?" he asked with a shrug. I glared at him, annoyed.

"_What_?" I mocked. "You wake me up at _six-thirty _in the morning with _ice cubes_?!"

"Well, I didn't know what else to do. You sleep like a friggin' rock."

"How about letting me sleep for a few more hours? Now, there's an idea!" I replied sarcastically. "What the hell is so important that I have to get up at six-thirty?" I forgot to mention that he was fully dressed already, which meant that he had probably been up since about five-thirty. (I don't understand that because that's Dad's least favorite time of the day.)

"We have to get ready to leave. Ya know, for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame." Dad stated. I was glaring daggers at him at this point.

"Dad, it doesn't open until, like, ten." I reminded him.

"I know, but it'll take everyone about two hours to get ready, then I figure it'll take us maybe an hour and a half to find somewhere to get breakfast and eat." he explained.

Okay, I admit it. I was really excited to visit the Rock Hall. But Dad? His excitement was taken to a whole other level, pretty much border lining insanity. I had never seen him so happy to be going somewhere in all my life. It was kind of scary. On the other hand, it was nice to see him looking forward to something so much.

So, I thought, what the hell? I'll humor him for once. I mean, he _was _the one who planned this vacation for us.

"All right. I'll just go take a shower, then." I muttered. I took a shower and got dressed and ready for the day while Dad woke up Sam and Oliver. I hoped that he didn't use the ice-cubes-down-the-shirt method with Oliver. He has very good reflexes…I was afraid he'd smack Dad in the face or something.

Dad was pretty good with his time predictions. After we all showered and everything, it was near eight-thirty. We left the hotel and drove through downtown Cleveland, where we found a restaurant that served breakfast. Once we had eaten, it was just a little bit after ten.

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum was a massive, glass and metal structure that was mostly shaped like a large pyramid. The lobby had a very high ceiling, and was decorated with signs and other huge, life-sized memorabilia.

I was surprised to find that once we arrived at the Rock Hall, it was already kind of crowded. There was a long line that we had to stand in before paying for tickets and receiving a wristband and a museum guide. (They also take a group picture of you; of course, Dad had to be a huge dork and have this goofy grin on his face and make the universal rocker symbol.) Dad made us stay in the lobby and take pictures in front of these giant guitars with the disposable camera he bought at a random drugstore. He made me take a picture with him in front of the huge guitar that had The Ramones symbol on it, as well as the lyric "Hey ho, let's go!" from their ever-popular song, "Blitzkrieg Bop".

I admit that I did enjoy taking that picture just as much as he did.

The lobby was the only place in the museum where we could take pictures, so after we finished, Dad tucked the camera away and we went to go see the exhibits. Dad was like a little kid in a candy store; it was fun for the rest of us to watch. Sam would shake his head and roll his eyes whenever me, Dad, and Oliver would get excited about seeing something. When Dad spotted something he liked, he'd drag me over to see it, and then Oliver would follow, and he'd fill us in on whatever background information that he knew of about that particular band or musician. Which was actually kind of cool…

We got to see different guitars and other instruments owned by musicians, articles of clothing, accessories, original music, videos, and all sorts of other interesting stuff. We had a lot of fun; it was well worth the long drive. The best part was seeing all of the inductees' signatures in the actual hall of fame. We walked down the dark hallway, mesmerized by the glow-in-the-dark autographs on the walls. There had to be hundreds of signatures there. Dad, Oliver, and I scanned them looking for our favorites, yelling them out to each other once we found them. Sam watched, amused, skimming through the names.

Once we saw all of the exhibits and everything, we made our way to the gift shop. There were all kinds of T-shirts, jewelry, books, games, CDs, posters, and other music-related stuff. Sam jokingly warned Dad to not go crazy and buy out the whole store.

Oliver went to look at the CDs, while I looked for some postcards to send to Missouri, Bobby, and Ellen. I also found a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame T-shirt with all of the inductees names on the back. Dad didn't go completely crazy, but he spent more money than I did. He bought a T-shirt, some kind of Led Zeppelin poster (I had no idea where he planned on putting it…), and _Trivial Pursuit: Rock Edition_. Which, I know, will be a lot of fun to play in the future.

Happy with our purchases, and a fun-filled day, we returned to the hotel. There, we all relaxed the rest of the night and ordered a lot of food and junk from room service. We also ordered a completely random and hilarious--yet sometimes scary--horror movie to watch. The four of us ended up falling asleep after the movie was over. I think I was the first one to drift off, since I had been woken up so damn early.

I admit it, though…we had a pretty great vacation.

** Hope you enjoyed that…Next chapter: Alyx and Oliver go back to school…**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, nor the song, "You Are My Sunshine"

A/N: I appreciate all of the reviews! You guys are awesome! I'm really excited about this sequel. i have some pretty good ideas for it already, so i hope you will enjoy it!

There was a quaint, little nursery with lilac colored walls, and a small crib with a lilac floral print blanket hanging over the side. A baby mobile hung from the ceiling above the crib; the ceiling was covered in glow-in-the-dark stars, all of which gave off a faint light. A young mother sat in a rocking chair, holding a baby girl in her arms. The baby girl was wide-awake; her green eyes staring lovingly up at her mother, memorizing her features.

The young mother stood up and began rocking back and forth, pacing the dark room, holding the infant protectively. The baby let out a small cry, her small face showing sadness. Somehow, she could sense her mother's concern and fear.

"Shh," the young woman told her daughter, "It's okay, Sweet Pea. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." The infant began crying once more. "You want Mommy to sing to you?" she suggested. 'I'm not as good as Daddy.' she thought with a small smirk, 'But I'll try'.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…you make me happy, when skies are gray…you'll never know, dear, how much I love you…please don't take my sunshine away…"

As she finished the last line of the song, she placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. The infant was fast asleep.

"I'm sorry, Alyx," she whispered. "I know this isn't fair to you, baby, but just remember that I love you with all my heart, Sweet Pea." With that, she placed her baby girl gently into her crib, tears threatening to fall from her eyes…

I awoke to the blaring alarm clock on the nightstand next to my bed. I opened my eyes and rolled over, slamming my hand down on the 'Snooze' button. I sat up slowly, stretching. I remained in bed, thinking about the dream I had. Instead of concentrating on the details, all I could think was…

Why me?!

Yet _another_ weird, psychic premonition or whatever the hell it was. At a quarter to seven in the morning, I didn't really care. It was the last thing I needed on the first day of my senior year. I don't get it. The stupid dream wasn't even a premonition of the future; how could it be? It was of my mother singing to me as an infant. She had been killed years ago by the Demon. Although the enigmatic message at the end seemed a little…strange. Why was she apologizing to me? And what wasn't 'fair' to me? I didn't have time to think about it. I had to get ready for school.

It was the back-to-school rush, unfortunately. Personally, I think it was too early to be going back, because it felt like we'd just gotten out; due to the month that Oliver and I spent in summer school. And, I hadn't had that much time to get used to the whole getting up early thing again. However, it was pretty cool to be returning, since we were now seniors.

I climbed out of bed, and got dressed in jeans and a plain, black T-shirt. I pulled a jean jacket over it, and put on some makeup before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I went back into my room and picked up my messenger bag off the floor. I was shoving the last of my school supplies into it when Oliver walked in, slinging his book bag over one shoulder.

"Good morning." he greeted, smiling.

"Uh-huh." I replied distracted. He made a face.

"I say 'good morning' to you, and all I get is an 'uh-huh'? What's up with you today?"

"Just a little preoccupied," I answered, pulling my messenger bag over my shoulder. I picked up the binders that were sprawled across the floor, trying to adjust them comfortably in my arms. "With…things." I finished.

"I can see that," Oliver smirked. "Want me to carry something?"

"Nah, I got it." I said. As if on cue, one of the binders fell to the floor by my feet. Oliver frowned and picked it up.

"Here," he said, grabbing the rest of them from my arms, "I'll take them."

"Thanks."

"No problem," he replied as we began walking down the hall to the stairs. "So, what other…_things_ are you so concerned about? It's only the first day of school. What sort of problems can you have _already_?"

"Nothing…it's just--" I didn't finish, because my uncle was coming toward us, holding a cup of coffee. I didn't want him to hear about my weird dreams. I had managed to keep the whole premonitions thing a secret. The only nightmares they knew about were the ones I had after Kylie's death, and the one I had of the Demon in the back of the Impala. "I'll tell you later." I whispered. Oliver nodded.

"Ready for your first day of senior year?" Sam asked us. He just _had_ to be a big geek about this, didn't he?

"Yeah." Oliver and I said together. We followed Sam into the kitchen, where Dad was leaning against the counter, drinking coffee. He looked up and threw me the keys to my Impala that were lying on the counter next to him. I caught them easily, muttering a thanks.

"Have a good day!" Dad said sarcastically, over-emphasizing his enthusiasm. I smirked.

"Yep!" I called, as Oliver and I made our way to the front door. We stepped outside and got into my midnight blue beauty, dumping our school stuff in the back seat. Before we drove off, I rolled down the windows partially, since it was surprisingly warm for September. Once we were farther down the road, I turned on the radio.

"So, what were you going to tell me earlier?" Oliver questioned, turning down the volume of the radio slightly.

"Oh, yeah," I said, remembering, "I had a dream."

Oliver looked at me blankly, a bit amused.

"_Okay_…" he laughed. "Can you elaborate on that?"

"Sorry," I smiled. "It was about my mom. I saw her holding me and singing to me as baby. And then, she told me that she was sorry…she said something wasn't fair to me. I don't understand it."

"Have you had dreams like this before?" he asked.

I paused. He knew about the premonition of the future--the one of us and our kids--because he had the same one. However, I never told him that I dreamed of him before we met.

"What, you mean like…visions or something?" I asked, to clarify. He nodded.

"Uh, yeah, actually. I dreamed about you…before we met at school." I confessed. Oliver looked shocked.

"You did?"

"Yeah…" I trailed off. "Listen, I just didn't want to say anything about it in front of my uncle. I've managed to keep him and my Dad out of it so far…I can handle it on my own. I don't want to worry them."

"Alyx, do you really think you can keep this from them for much longer? Especially now that you're dreaming about your mom…I think you should at least tell your uncle, because you obviously have the same psychic ability."

"I know…" I groaned. This sucked.

"It's not the worst thing in the world. I mean, you're lucky. I have a lot more abilities to keep track of than you do." Oliver laughed.

"Yeah," I agreed, as we pulled into the student parking lot. We grabbed our stuff and got out. We strolled over to one of the entrances, and when we stepped inside, I immediately felt tension in the air. "Why do I feel like everyone is staring at us?" I whispered to Oliver as we made our way down the halls toward the senior homerooms. Luckily, the two of us were in the same homeroom, just like junior year.

"Because they are." he whispered back. I glanced around, and saw that he was right. All of the students in the hallways were staring at us and giving us strange looks as we walked past them. They were also whispering back and forth to one another. I couldn't really tell what any of them were saying, but I knew it couldn't be too good. I only caught certain words, like "weird", "criminal", and my personal favorite, "Satan worshipper". I got the feeling that it had something to do with our mysterious, prolonged absence from school, and the fact that most of them probably saw my arrest plastered all over the TV.

Great…

Standing at the end of the hallway near the senior homerooms was my enemy and her posse of bitchy preps. They were all laughing at us as we approached them. I knew she was the one behind all of this. No wonder the rumors flew around the school so fast…

"Hey, freak," Brittany called, directing the comment at me, "Did you _enjoy_ prison?"

Oh, this was _not_ going to be a very fun year. I could just tell already.


	6. Chapter 6

I lunged at Brittany, ready to punch her friggin' lights out. I didn't want to deal with her crap right now. Oliver, unfortunately, grabbed me around the waist, and held me back before I could do any damage.

"Hey, hey," Oliver said calmly, trying to ease my thrashing. "It's not worth it, Alyx." I stopped, only because I knew he was right. It wasn't worth getting into trouble on the very first day of school after summer vacation. Not when I had the reputation as the 'criminal' already. Oliver placed his arm around my shoulder, and we walked to our homeroom, trying to ignore the eruption of laughter behind us.

That's pretty much how it went for the first couple weeks of school. Brittany would enlighten me with a new, creative insult every day. Sometimes, she would just laugh, stare, or give me a dirty look whenever we saw each other in the halls. I tried to avoid any sort of encounter with her as much as possible. My temper was tested constantly; Oliver had to restrain me from inflicting some sort of bodily harm--either with my fists or my mind--on her numerous times. God love him for being so patient and understanding. I don't know what I'd do without him.

A few weeks into school, I was getting my books for my afternoon classes before heading to lunch. Brittany had the same lunch period; she and her friends and a few jock guys were hanging out at her locker, which was just across the hall from mine. (Lucky me!) I got my stuff and left rather quickly, trying not to pay attention to any of them. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I had dropped something that would give Brittany the chance to make my life more of a living hell; something that would prove how much of a 'freak' I really was.

It was just after lunch--Oliver and I were on our way to gym--when I completely froze in my tracks upon hearing my name called over the speaker system.

"Alyxandria Winchester, please report to the principal's office _immediately_."

I shot a worried glance at Oliver, who returned it. I walked off in the direction of the principal's office, feeling very…nauseous, actually. I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that this wasn't going to go to a very good place. I wanted to cry; this was the cherry on the top of a terrible first couple weeks of school. Although, crying in front of any type of authority figure was just unprofessional, so I opted to keep my emotions to myself. I approached the door of the office, and stood outside for a moment to take a deep breath. When I was ready, I knocked quietly on the door.

"Come in," came the gruff voice of the principal, Mr. Williams. I stepped inside slowly, closing the door behind myself. This wasn't my first time in his office; it hadn't changed very much since last year. It was insanely neat and organized, as usual. Mr. Williams himself sat behind his desk, hands folded. He was a tall, round, balding man with glasses and bushy mustache. "Have a seat, Miss Winchester."

I plopped down in one of the familiar, blue cushioned chairs across from his desk, setting my messenger bag on the floor by my feet. I didn't say a word. Being in Mr. Williams' office always made me nervous. As I mentioned earlier, the surroundings weren't anything new. I visited him last school year, when I returned after Kylie's death. That's when he ordered an evaluation for me by the school psychologist, to see how I was 'coping'. How I hoped that this little visit didn't land me another session with the school shrink…she already thinks I have issues.

Mr. Williams held up a book that was lying on his desk for me to see. I recognized it instantly; it was a book on the occult that I got out of the local library. I wondered how it ended up finding its way out of my locker and on the principal's desk.

"Alyxandria, I've noticed that since you've arrived here freshman year, you've had an interesting fascination with the subject of the…_unexplained_. Miss Rockland brought this to my attention," he explained. Brittany…so, she did this? Damn her. I should've known. "And frankly, I'm concerned."

"Concerned? Mr. Williams, I got that out of the local library just to read in my spare time."

"I highly doubt that a book on the occult qualifies as light reading," he replied. "And with your recent criminal record put into consideration, I'd like you to know that I _will _be keeping a close eye on you this year." What the hell? What did he think I was planning on doing with that book anyway? Put some sort of curse on him? "Now, do you have any other books of this type stowed away in your locker?" I nodded. I could've lied, but I figured that it would get me into even more trouble. Mr. Williams insisted on confiscating the rest of the books. I had no choice but to lead him to my locker and pull out the other books that I had stored there. They were on different supernatural subjects: demonology, ghosts, EVP and EMF, urban legends, psychic abilities, and parapsychology.

"Thank you, Miss Winchester," Mr. Williams said before letting me go back to class. (By that time, gym was over, anyway.) "And I want to let you know that I'm going to set up a meeting with you, your father and your uncle to discuss this matter."

Oh, man. Dad wasn't going to like this…

At the end of the day, I went to Oliver's locker, frowning. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me.

"I'm guessing that you got into trouble for something?" he asked. I nodded. "And this something in some way has to do with Brittany?"

"Yep," I answered angrily. "A book fell out of my locker, apparently--a book on the _occult_. Brittany took it to Mr. Williams and now he's setting up some sort of parent-student-teacher conference thing."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, tell me about it." I replied sarcastically.

This meeting was going to be horrible.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural, only my characters, Alyx, Oliver and Mr. Williams. **

It turns out that freaking Mr. Williams called my dad at work--at _work_!--to tell him about the meeting he wants to have. He also approached Sam at school to fill him in on it. I couldn't believe him! Why the hell was it such a problem that I had books on the supernatural? I could sort of see the whole 'fugitive' angle of it, but come on, it's not like I was planning on doing something with them other than reading. Sam and Dad would take my side on this ridiculous matter; I knew it. Although, Dad seemed pretty pissed.

After school the next day, the three of us Winchesters filed into Mr. Williams' office. We were a sight to see, really. Sam in a dress shirt, tie, and dress pants, Dad in his jeans and T-shirt--which were covered in dirt and grime from work, and me in black jeans, a black AC/DC shirt, and combat boots. The difference in between all of us made Mr. Williams quite shocked. He had never met my father personally before; they had only talked on the phone, about this meeting and setting me up with the school psychologist last year. How I wished that I had the ability to read minds so I could find out what he _really_ thought of us.

"It's nice to have the three of you here all at once." Mr. Williams said after we sat down. I was slouched in my chair, wishing that I could somehow go back in time to stop Brittany from taking that damn book.

"So, what's this all about? Is Alyx in trouble for something?" Dad asked.

"No, she's not in trouble, per say. I'm just concerned, is all," Mr. Williams replied. I wanted to laugh in his face. He wasn't concerned. He was just singling me out because I was the 'troublemaker'. He pulled out the books that he found in my locker and handed them to Dad. Dad smirked a little while looking at them, then gave them to Sam. "We found these in her locker. She says she got them out of the local library to read. The subject matter is what concerns me. I had a chance to glance them during the day; I found information in there about cults and sacrificing--"

Dad cut Mr. Williams off quickly. "Are you suggesting that Alyx is in a cult or something?" He laughed.

"No, Mr. Winchester, I--" Sam interrupted this time.

"No offense, Mr. Williams, but they're just books. I don't see what the problem is. Actually, I'm glad Alyx takes the time to pick up a book to retain information when some kids her age don't care enough to do so."

"Yes, I understand that, but it's my job to keep an eye out for students who exhibit interests in suspicious activity," Mr. Williams said. "Therefore, I would like Alyx to visit the school psychologist again, for further evaluation."

I knew it would come down to this! Ugh…I did _not _want to go back to the shrink…

"I'm not sending her back to that shrink, okay? She's perfectly fine." Dad argued. I loved how he could practically read my thoughts.

"I highly recommend it, Mr. Winchester. I think it would be good for Alyx to talk to someone. Someone who can help. I've already explained the situation to Miss Miller, and she thinks that Alyx would benefit from it." Mr. Williams opened up a drawer in his desk and pulled out a card, which he handed to me.

Angelina Miller

Psychologist

Appointment time: 12:30

"She's set up an appointment for you tomorrow, during your lunch period." Mr. Williams stated. I liked how we had absolutely no say in this. Stupid jerk just sends me off to the shrink whenever he feels like it, so I can talk about my feelings and sissy crap like that. Whatever. I didn't need to talk to her again. If I wanted to talk to anyone about personal stuff, I'd go to Dad or Sam, or even Oliver. I had my mind made up; I could just blow off the session. I tucked the card into the pocket of my jeans, making a mental note to burn it as soon as I got home.

"Well, I think this concludes the meeting," the principal declared, getting to his feet. "Thank you for your time." Mr. Williams shook Dad's hand, and then we departed. Once we were near the Impala (I was getting a ride home with Dad and Sam. I gave Oliver the keys to my car so he didn't have to stay.), Dad started asking questions.

"What were you doing with those books in your locker, Alyx? I thought I told you to keep that kind of stuff at home. We don't need people like him on our case. Or, did you forget the most important rule, that--"

I interrupted him. "I know, I _know_. 'We do what we do and we shut up about it'. I get it, okay? How was I supposed to know Brittany would get a hold of it?"

"You have to be more careful," Dad warned. He unlocked the car; I was about to open up the back door when he stopped me. "I'm not done." He stated. "Do you have any _other _hunting-type materials hidden in your locker that we should know about?" I nodded, causing Dad to sigh and wipe a hand over his face, frustrated. He told me elaborate on what exactly I had in my locker, so I did, knowing full well that both he and Sam wouldn't be pleased.

"Uh…salt, a flask of holy water, a copy of the exorcism ritual, candles, matches," I said, counting them off on my fingers, "And, oh yeah…a bowie knife."

"Alyx! Ya can't keep a damn bowie knife in your locker!" Sam scolded. I shrugged.

"Dad said to always be prepared…"

"Yeah, I know, but I didn't say to bring _weapons _to school," Dad pointed out. "You're damn lucky he didn't find any of it."

"So, anyway, why did you have those books in the first place?" Sam asked, leaning over the roof of the Impala.

"Studying."

He gawked at me. "_Studying_? Why do you have to study any of that stuff when you know it all already?"

"Well, I kind of…figured out what career I want to pursue." I stated honestly. Dad jumped to conclusions, and began yelling at me.

"Alyx, we've been over this hundreds of times. You're _not_ hunting for a living! I told you that's not the kind of life I want you to have."

"Relax, Dad. I'm only going to hunt part-time, I promise," I said. "I want to go to school and become a parapsychologist."

Dad looked at me, confused. "Para…_what_?" Sam and I laughed.

"A parapsychologist studies the existence of psychic abilities, like precognition and clairvoyance, and other paranormal phenomena." I explained, giving him the best dictionary definition that I could think of. He still seemed a bit puzzled.

"Isn't that the same as hunting?"

"Sort of, but not really. I'd be doing it on a more formal, professional level."

Dad laughed. "What, and we're not professionals?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know, kiddo," Dad replied. "So, this is really what you want to do?" I nodded.

"We'll definitely support you, Ally." Sam agreed.

"That's good to know."


	8. Chapter 8

"You're actually going to skip the session?" Oliver asked the next day as we were walking down the nearly deserted corridor in the direction of the cafeteria. He had asked about yesterday's meeting when he saw me successfully burning the school psychologist's business card with one of the lighters from the hunting equipment.

"Psht. Of course. I don't want to talk to her about my life. It's none of her damn business."

The two of us were about to round the corner when someone called my name. "Miss Winchester," a female voice addressed from behind us, "You weren't planning on blowing me off, were you?" I rolled my eyes at Oliver, and turned around on my heel to see Miss Angelina Miller, school psychologist, standing in the hallway with her arms folded impatiently over her chest. She was a petite woman with short, red hair and blue eyes behind square-shaped glasses.

"No," I lied miserably. "I was just heading to your office now…" She looked unconvinced; I expected she would be. Her office was on the floor above us, on the opposite end of the school. I was nowhere near it.

"Good luck…" Oliver whispered in a singsong voice. He trudged off toward the cafeteria, leaving me to follow the shrink to her office. It was a small room, complete with a bookshelf (not nearly as impressive as any of Bobby's), a file cabinet, a couple of chairs, one of those couch things that are usually in a psychologist's office, and inspirational posters tacked onto the boring, white walls. During my last visit, I entertained myself by reading said posters, but this time it would be pointless.

"Alyx, why don't you have a seat?" Miss Miller said, shutting the door. I sighed and sunk down onto the couch thing, finding that it was surprisingly soft and bouncy. I watched as she went over to the file cabinet and started fishing through it. I was silently hoping that something exciting would happen, like maybe the books could all of a sudden fly off the shelves on their own, and papers could go swirling around the room, and Miss Miller's deceased ex-boyfriend who died in a tragic car accident on the way to their five-year anniversary date could show up to scare the living daylights our of her. And then I'd laugh my ass off and spring into action to save the day.

Ya know, just for fun.

I doubt that Miss Miller had a deceased boyfriend, though. Damn my overly-active imagination.

Miss Miller sat down in one of the chairs closest to where I was seated, holding a folder. She opened it up as I sat with my legs over the side of the couch/loveseat thing with my chin in my hand, and my elbow resting on my knee. I was momentarily preoccupied with counting the number of coffee stains on the beige carpet. Seriously, doesn't anyone clean that thing?

"We haven't talked in awhile. How have you been doing?"

"Fine." I muttered. Ugh, she made me loose count! Oh well… I focused on pulling at a loose thread on the couch instead.

"Mr. Williams said that you had some books on the supernatural in your locker. Does that kind of thing interest you?"

I shrugged, not bothering to answer. I find that giving people the silent treatment can work wonders.

"I'll take that as a yes. Alyx, why exactly does the paranormal interest you?"

Another shrug.

"Okay," she sighed. I could tell that she was kind of ticked off that I wasn't saying anything. Although, she should be used to that kind of behavior from me. I didn't say much last time I was here; I only cried my eyes out the entire time because she kept nagging me to talk about Kylie. "I heard that you had a very long absence last year. Can you tell me about that?"

I decided to make up something now. "Family emergency."

"You were gone for well over a month," Miss Miller pointed out. "And you developed a criminal record. It says here that you were in a large-scale car chase, and you were arrested."

I sighed. "We were down in San Antonio visiting family. A relative of my father's died, so we had to drive there for the funeral. Me and my cousins got jumped by a couple of jerks in a gang, and they started chasing us. We got into my car, and they went after us. They started it, not me. We were at the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess."

Miss Miller considered this for a moment. "And they released you from jail…?"

"Yeah. They found the group of jerks who started it after me and my cousins gave the police descriptions. They let us go after they were arrested."

I couldn't believe I had come up with something so elaborate. I only hoped that she bought it all, considering Dad doesn't have any relatives in San Antonio, and I don't have any cousins, either.

"All right," she said, writing something down on one of the papers in the folder. "How about your home life, Alyx? Everything okay? You wouldn't tell me much last time…" Was it any of her business? Really, what was she trying to imply? That I came from a bad home? That Dad and Sam are bad people?

I kept my mouth shut, like I did last session. Last time, she let it go, but now, it looked like she didn't have that intention. She opened up that stupid folder of hers again, and began rattling off facts about me.

"Let's see. It says here that your mother died when you were an infant. I'm sorry…how did she die?"

"There was a fire." I answered.

"Ah. And this was why you had trouble with Kylie's death? Because she, too, died in a fire?"

Once more, I didn't say anything.

"It's okay to talk about it, Alyx. I know it might still hurt, but it will help to tell me some things that might be bothering you. I know. I lost my mother at a young age--"

"No, you _don't _know, all right?" I said, more loudly than I intended to. Then, out of nowhere, the tears came. I felt embarrassed, crying in front of someone I barely knew. I don't even like crying in the first place. "You _don't_. I mean, even though you lost your mom when you were younger, you can't imagine what it's like…I don't even _remember _her." All I have are pictures…and dreams, apparently. "Look, I don't want to talk about it right now." I said, wiping tears away with the sleeve of my hoodie. I didn't talk about my mom often; I certainly didn't want to do so in front of her.

"That's fine," she said. "So, you live with your father, Dean, and uncle, Sam. They've raised you since your mother's death?"

"Yep."

"How is your relationship with them?"

I might as well open up, now that I expressed my feelings about my mom in that little outburst. I made sure not to let any information on our family business slip when I answered any of her questions.

"We're close," I admitted. "We always have been….'cause it's always been just the three of us, ya know? It's like having two dads, really. I love them. I owe so much to my dad and uncle. They've sacrificed a lot for me." I said, sniffling a bit, trying to get rid of dampness on my cheeks. It felt so strange to be talking so freely. I wasn't used to it, but it actually made me feel a lot better.

"Would you say that you admire your father?" she inquired. I nodded. "How so?"

"I guess you could say that he's like my hero. My role model. Always has been, ever since I could remember. I grew up knowing that I wanted to be exactly like him when I got older…brave, courageous, strong…he's the strongest man I know. I don't know what I'd do without him."

She read the expression on my face quickly, and was amazingly accurate with her next question. "And do you often fear that you'll…loose him or that something bad will, in some way, happen to him like it did for your mother?"

I paused. I couldn't elaborate much on that, really, without saying something about what we do. But, it was the truth; I am always afraid something might happen to him or Sam. It comes with the territory, so to speak. I mean, I remember pacing in front of Missouri's front door when I was five years old, freaking out, waiting for the two of them to come home from their so-called "business trips". I remember thinking--even when I didn't know about hunting yet--numerous times, 'What if they don't come back'? When one of them came home injured, I flipped out. I scold them whenever they get hurt when I'm with them on a hunt. There's reasons to my thinking, of course. I always thought that if anything happened to them, I'd be alone. And I don't want that. (Of course, I have Bobby, Missouri, Ellen, and Oliver, but it wouldn't be the same.) If Dad or Sam were killed, I'd be…an emotional wreck. Devastated.

"Uh, yeah." I replied, finally.

"It's okay to admit that, Alyx. Everyone has that sort of fear about their loved ones."

No, I don't think so. Mine has a better chance of becoming reality, unfortunately. Like I said, it comes with the job.

"All right, well, the bell is going to ring any minute, so I think that's enough for today," Miss Miller stated, glancing at her watch. "But I'd like to set up another session with you during lunch again."

"Sure." I muttered, standing up. I picked up my messenger bag off the floor, and after being dismissed, I left the room.

The moment I stepped out, I felt that a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Maybe seeing the shrink wasn't so bad after all.

A/N: A bit of humor and angst mixed in. Hoped you liked it! By the way, I should've mentioned this earlier, but "The Devil Game" is a song by Kansas, which I do not own.

P.S.--Part of next chapter will be in Oliver's point of view, so that should be interesting…


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural that you recognize. I also do not own the song "Hot" by Avril Lavigne.**

**A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! Okay, so I decided to do the entire chapter in Oliver's POV. I've never done his POV before, so I hope it's all right. Please review and tell me what you think!**

I walked across the hall to Alyx's bedroom, and knocked on the doorframe. The door was wide open, but I wasn't sure if she'd like it if I just waltzed right in. Alyx was lying on her stomach on her bed, flipping through some magazine while listening to her iPod. She didn't look up--who knew how loud the volume was on that thing?--so I knocked again, this time calling her name. Finally, she glanced my way, pulling the ear buds out of her ears.

"Oh, hey…sorry," she apologized, throwing the magazine haphazardly onto the floor, which was already cluttered with an assortment of other things. Smiling, Alyx stood and approached me, grabbing my hand. She pulled me into the room, greeting me with a soft kiss. "What's up?"

"Well, I know you don't want to go to the Halloween dance tonight," I stated, scratching my neck nervously. I didn't even want to bring the subject up; last time I suggested it a few days ago, she started crying. The Halloween dance had been Kylie and Alyx's thing, and I fully understood why she didn't want to go. "but I'd like to take you out somewhere, if that's okay." She considered this for a moment, while I stood there, hopeful. I wanted to go out with her as an early birthday present, and I already had a place in mind.

"Uh…sure. I'm not really dressed for going out anywhere," she pointed out, gesturing to the hoodie and pajama pants that she was currently wearing, "but if you can wait for me to change…"

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll wait." I exited the room, shutting the door behind myself. I wandered downstairs to find Mr. Winchester, to tell him that I was taking Alyx out for the night. He was fine with it, thankfully, and told me to bring her home safely by midnight. He also stated quite firmly that we were not to do drugs or consume any alcohol. I had never planned on doing either of them in the first place, but I nodded in reply anyway.

Alyx entered the living room twenty minutes later, wearing a black jean skirt and a turquoise tank top under a black jean jacket, with her favorite pair of black Converse sneakers. She looked absolutely beautiful, as always.

"Ready to go?" I asked her. She nodded. I stole the keys to her Impala off the table near the front hall, and we left.

"So, where exactly are we going?" she questioned as soon as we were on the road. I smirked.

"You'll see." I wanted to surprise her. I always loved the look on Alyx's face whenever I surprised her; it made me feel good to know that I could do something nice for her, because she had already done so much for me. However, I don't think I'll actually be able to fully repay her for saving me.

I drove downtown, and pulled into the parking lot of a brick building with the name 'Twilight' over the entrance. Once I shut off the car and pocketed the keys, Alyx threw me a confused look, unbuckling her seatbelt.

"What is this place?" she wanted to know. She got out of the car hesitantly. I slammed my door shut and walked around the front of the car to stand beside her.

"Just trust me. You'll like it." I replied, holding out my hand. She took it, and we ambled into the building. There was a small hallway to walk down before we saw a very muscular man standing behind a small desk. I paid the five dollar fee for each of us, and guiding Alyx along, we walked down a flight of dark stairs that took us underground. By that time, we could both feel and hear the music below.

"Is this a _club_?" Alyx asked as we descended.

"It has the best local punk music, from what I've heard." I said over the growing noise. Alyx grinned.

"Awesome!" she shouted. I had been meaning to take her here for awhile, after one of my few friends told me about it. 'Twilight' was an underground, alcohol and drug free, rock club for teenagers. Alyx and I were into the same music, so I knew right away that she'd be up for it.

The two of us stood by the entrance to the actual club, overwhelmed. The large room was dark, except for the multicolored lights sweeping over the crowd. There were a ton of people mingling, dancing and even moshing in a huge mosh pit that was in front of the stage. On stage, a local band was rocking out to their set. Alyx and I stood off to the side, enjoying the band. When the band was done with their set, there was still music playing over a sound system so people could continue dancing.

"Oh, I love this song!" Alyx yelled, turning to me. I listened closely, and recognized the song, only because I had heard Alyx play it on her stereo a lot. However, I didn't know who sung it, or even what the title of it was. "Want to dance?" she asked eagerly, pealing off her jean jacket and throwing it over a nearby chair. I nodded, and taking her hand, I led her onto the dance floor, among the other couples. We danced close, the bass pulsing through our bodies.

You make me so hot

Make me wanna drop

You're so ridiculous

I can barely stop

I can hardly breathe

Suddenly, Alyx moved even closer, which I didn't think was physically possible. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her torso pressed against mine, and her gentle curves moved in rhythm with my hips.

You make me wanna scream

You're so fabulous

You're so good to me baby, baby

You're so good to me baby, baby

I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her protectively. I placed a kiss into her soft, strawberry-scented hair, feeling like the luckiest guy in the entire room. How did I ever manage to deserve such an amazing girl?

Kiss me, gently

Always I know

Hold me, love me

Don't ever go

Alyx caught me slightly off guard when she pressed her lips against mine, and we shared a lingering kiss. I suddenly found myself thinking, was this song sending some kind of subliminal message? It sure seemed that way…

I broke the kiss just as the song ended, and we continued dancing when the band resumed their show. When I remembered to check the time, it was ten minutes to twelve, and I had promised to have Alyx home by midnight, so we had to leave.

"I had an _amazing _time it was _so_ much fun I really, _really _want to go back there it was soooo cool the band was awesome I mean they totally rocked thank you _so_ much Oliver you are the best…" Alyx said on the way home, speaking rapidly, like she often does when she's excited about something. I listened, though, laughing as she rambled on, waving her hands in the air. I couldn't help it; she was just so…adorable. Especially when her bright, green eyes sparkled as she grinned. I don't think I've ever seen her smile so much.

When we arrived at the house, Alyx and I walked upstairs (after checking in with Mr. Winchester), deciding that it was good idea to get some sleep. We were both pretty beat from all that dancing.

"Thank you, Oliver." Alyx said again, standing in the doorway of her room. She gave me another kiss before we went our separate ways for the night.

The next morning--October 31st, Alyx's birthday--at about nine-thirty, I crept into Alyx's room. She was still asleep, lying on her side, arm dangling over the edge of the bed. She looked so peaceful; I didn't have the heart to wake her. Instead, I set the card, the bouquet of roses, and the box of chocolates (that I had gotten up at seven-thirty to get for her) on the bedside table and started to slowly exit the room. Unfortunately, I forgot about a certain creaky floorboard, and the loud, unnatural noise made Alyx stir. She sat up, and stared at me groggily.

"Oliver?" she whispered. I turned around. She went to look at the clock on the table beside her bed and saw the card, roses, and box of chocolates there. Her eyes widened. I smirked and took a seat on the edge of her bed. She picked up the card and roses, setting them in her lap. She read through the card with a smile.

"Oh, Oliver, thank you…these are beautiful." She gestured at the roses. After peeking into the box of chocolates, she leaned over to give me a kiss.

"Happy birthday, Alyx." I told her.

We spent the rest of the day with Alyx's family. We ate cake and ice cream, and she opened presents. In the evening, the two of us sat on the couch and watched some horror movie marathon on TV. She ended up falling asleep on my shoulder at about two in the morning; not that I minded. I loved having her next to me.

One day, I knew we would be together permanently, as a married couple. Being with her for the rest of my life would make me the happiest guy in the entire world…


	10. Chapter 10

A light rain fell as I parked on the side of one of the many, meandering paved roads in the cemetery a few miles from my house. I stepped out of the car, a chill jolting through my body from the damp air and the fog hanging heavily around me. It was quiet, since it was only about seven in the morning, yet I found the silence somewhat peaceful. Cemeteries never really scared me or made me feel uneasy--except, maybe for the one in Wyoming--because I had visited a number of them in my years.

I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up over my head to shield myself from the drizzling rain--I hadn't thought to bring a jacket, since it had just begun to rain on the way here--and walked up the grassy hill, holding two, light pink lilies in my hand. I approached Kylie's headstone and crouched down, placing a lily on the grass. I removed a picture of the two of us out of the pocket of my hoodie and set it by the lily. The picture was one of my favorites; it was on our trip to New Orleans. We were standing outside of a voodoo shop, pointing at it all excited. We both had these insanely goofy grins on our faces.

I stood back up, and sighed, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans. It had been a year…

_A full year. _

I couldn't believe it. How could time pass by so quickly? It seemed so weird. I mean, it felt like we had just met, and then suddenly, she was gone. My only, true best friend.

Life's never fair like that, I guess.

Sometimes, I still wonder what it would be like if things had happened a little differently that night…

Heaving another sigh, I placed my hand gently on top of the headstone in a reverent gesture. "Miss you, Ky." I said quietly. After taking another glance at the picture, I headed in the direction of the second grave that I wanted to visit.

Joanna Beth Winchester

1981-2009

Beloved Wife, Mother and Friend

Approaching my mother's gravestone, I spotted a single, red rose lying on the ground in front of it. I knew that it was from my father; he always visits Mom near the anniversary of her death. I placed the remaining lily beside the rose, and sat down on the wet grass, not really caring what the weather was like or that I'd get dirty. I hadn't done this in awhile; ever since I learned how to drive, I would come out here and just sit by Mom's grave and talk to her, hoping that maybe, wherever she was, she'd hear me. I felt that, right now, I _needed_ to talk to her. I had so many questions on my mind that I wanted to vent and get everything out to make myself feel a bit better. I told her about how we finally killed the Demon, and that Dad, Sam, and Ellen and I were doing fine. I told her all about Oliver, knowing that if she were alive, she'd definitely like him. Then, I paused, biting my lip and fighting back tears. God, how I hated crying…

"I'm so confused, Mom," I said finally. "These dreams…I don't know what the hell they're trying to tell me. I mean, I know I should tell Dad and Sam, but I can't seem to… I understand that they're about you…I wish you could tell me what you wanted me to know. At least give me a sign or something to help me out." Wiping a tear that managed to escape, I got to my feet, ready to leave. However, a sharp, shooting pain in my head prevented my departure. It came out of nowhere, seizing me with enough agony to make my knees give out. I dropped to the ground, rubbing my forehead and temples to try to alleviate the throbbing. It didn't let up; actually, it got worse when I started seeing images.

Yeah, you heard me. _Images_.

The first one was of my mother, who appeared to be my age. Then, it flashed forward to show her writing in a tattered, purple diary. Next, I saw her and Dad getting married, me after I was born, and the fire sweeping through my nursery the night that the Demon attacked. The short scenes came fast, making my head spin. The pain wasn't any picnic, either, as you can imagine. The vision, or whatever it was, disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving me shaken and with a dull headache. Trembling, I got up from the ground and tried to steady my breathing. I had _never _experienced anything like this.

Let me tell you, it was _scary_.

Since when did _I_ get psychic visions?

Was _this_ the sign I had asked my mother for? Could she have sent me a vision? If it was, it was more confusing than the dream, really. And I could've done _without_ the pain…but, whatever. Beggars can't be choosers.

I drove home in silence, thinking about what I had seen. There was a reason that I saw that diary. Maybe my mother's diary was the key to finding out the answers I needed. But where was this diary?

When I shuffled through the door, I was sight to behold. Dad and Sam looked at me like I was crazy. (Oliver was most likely still sleeping.) After all, I was wet, muddy, cold, and I was still a bit disoriented from my first psychic vision. Dad stood up and threw me a kitchen towel. Not that it would do much drying, but it's the thought that counts.

"_Where_ were you?" he asked. I tossed the towel over the side of the chair and started walking away.

"Out," I called. "I'm gonna go take a shower."

Once I had showered and put on some dry clothes, I went back to the kitchen, where Oliver was now sitting at the table with my dad and Sam. I made myself a mug of hot chocolate and plopped down into a chair next to my boyfriend. When I looked up, both Dad and Sam were staring at me.

"_What_?" I demanded moodily.

"You walk in here at eight-thirty in the morning soaking wet, looking like you just saw a ghost, and all you say is that you went _out_?" Dad asked. "You could've at least left a note, Alyx."

"Sorry." I muttered.

"Now, where did you go?"

"The cemetery." I said quietly. This simple statement made everyone at the table instantly become somewhat tense and silent. The atmosphere stayed that way until Sam spoke, breaking the uneasiness.

"Ally, you hungry?" he asked. I shook my head, but he got up and started making toast anyway. Why do I even bother?

I sighed and glanced over at Dad, who was reading the paper. Maybe _he_ knew where the purple diary was?

"Dad?"

"Uh-huh?" he asked, folding the paper down to look at me. I didn't want to ask--I didn't want to say anything about Mom in front of him--but I knew I had to. It was the only way that I'd find out what the heck was going on.

"Do you…do you have Mom's old things in your closet still?"

He gave me a confused look. "Yeah…why?"

"No reason," I said quickly. "Just…wondering."

I wanted to ask, _Do you remember seeing a certain purple book in there? _But I didn't. He would worry and try to interrogate me if I got into specifics. I sat and finished my hot chocolate, then got up and left, claiming that I had homework to do. I really didn't; I had an ulterior motive, as you might have guessed.

I crept into my Dad's room and opened up the closet. It was a mess, naturally, so I had to dig through clothes and other crap to get to the boxes in the back. I pulled out one of the large cardboard boxes labeled, "Jo's Things" and sat on the floor to look through it. I had seen all of the items in this box before; I might've come across this purple diary without even realizing it. There were clothes, jewelry, pictures and some of my mother's personal belongings, like things that were important to her. Lo and behold, at the very bottom of the box, there was the purple diary. I picked it up, shocked that I had actually succeeded in finding the thing. It was a smaller notebook; some of the pages were yellowed and tattered at the ends. I was about to open it and start reading when the door opened.

"Alyx?" Oliver asked, stepping in a bit. I shut the book and shoved it in the pocket of my hoodie before he could see.

"Yeah? What's up?"

"I, uh, just wanted to know if you want to come with me to Missouri's?" he wondered. I stood up, and pushed the box back into the closet.

"Sure."

"Okay. Cool. Let me just get showered and ready…"

"All right." I said. He left, and I went back to my room. I placed my mother's diary in a box under my bed, so no one would find it. I would have to make time to read through it another day.

Unfortunately, I would be too preoccupied with _other_ things to find the answers I wanted…


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize.**

It was the day after we got back from the Thanksgiving holiday that things in the school started getting a little…strange. It was seventh period and I was making my way to my next class when I noticed that there was an unusual amount of whispering and people talking to each other in groups. And for once, none of them were looking at me. Which was a huge relief. Oliver approached me quickly, asking if I had heard about what happened. I shot him a confused look.

"No. What, did Brittany have a major freak out over her broken, overly-priced, manicured nail in the middle of the hallway again?" I asked. Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Hannah Goldman collapsed last period, and they had to call an ambulance to rush her to the hospital." he explained. Hannah was one of Brittany's friends, actually.

"You know why she collapsed?"

"No one knows. She was perfectly healthy."

"Okay…"

I didn't think it was anything supernatural at that point. I mean, yeah, it was a bit odd that she collapsed when she was absolutely fine. But by Thursday of the following week, three other students beside Hannah Goldman had suffered the same fate. All four of them were now in a coma in the Intensive Care Unit at the hospital. All of them were gravely ill; their immune systems were slowly shutting down for no apparent reason. The case had been plastered on every news station since the second person collapsed.

I was sitting in Math class sixth period the following day (a Friday), staring out the window. I never pay attention in Math class, hence why I suck at the subject more than the others. It wouldn't be such a problem if the teacher wasn't so damn boring and spacey. She's quite oblivious to the fact that most of her students don't pay any attention to what she's doing half the time, either, which is okay for me. I got tired of watching one of the school maintenance men cut the grass outside, so I let my eyes wander around the classroom as the teacher went over last night's homework that I only partially finished. While glancing at the other students who were as bored as I was, I noticed that this guy, Brandon, sitting across from me, had a rather pained look on his face. It looked like he suddenly couldn't breathe…The teacher continued to write on the chalkboard, muttering who-knows-what to herself.

"Somebody help him!" a girl yelled frantically from behind me. I glanced back to see who it was and saw that it was Amy, a normally very shy girl in my grade. Luckily, I wasn't the only one seeing this.

However, the teacher was apparently very hard of hearing, because she didn't respond. Everyone was staring at the poor guy, talking loudly. Some got to their feet. Brandon started wheezing and finally fell out of his chair, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

"Please…help…me…" he coughed, clawing at the carpet. I got out of my seat and knelt on the floor by Brandon, rolling him over so that he was lying on his back. His lips were turning blue, and his face was deathly pale.

"Do something!" Amy shouted at the teacher, who finally turned around just as Brandon coughed and fell unconscious.

"Call 911!" I ordered the teacher. Dropping her math book to the floor with a startled cry, she scurried over to the phone on the wall of the classroom. She called the main office, telling them to dial 911 immediately. We all watched, horrified, as Brandon was carried swiftly out of the room on a stretcher.

Please help me.

Brandon's words remained in my mind even as I sat down for dinner that night. _Something_ had done that to him. I knew it. I had witnessed the whole thing, and something about it didn't seem right.

"What's wrong, kiddo? You're unusually quiet…" Dad mused.

"A guy in my Math class collapsed today--just like the others. I saw it, and something was…_off_. I don't know…I just have this weird feeling that something _else_ did it to him."

"Like what?" Sam asked, interested. I shook my head.

"I dunno."

"What did you see, exactly?" Dad inquired.

"He was just sitting there, and then all of a sudden, he couldn't breathe. His lips were turning blue. He fell unconscious right after he collapsed onto to the floor. It was almost as if…"

"What, Ally?" Sam encouraged.

"As if something was sucking the life right out of him," I finished. Oliver glanced at me, his eyes wide. I sighed and set my fork down onto my plate. "Sammy, can I use your laptop?"

"Yeah, sure." he replied. I got up from the table, deciding to do a bit of research on my own. I grabbed Sam's laptop and curled up onto the couch. I surfed the web for every report on the students who collapsed, and some things on creatures or entities that could cause such a thing. About an hour and a half later, Sam sunk down on the opposite end of the couch.

"Find anything?" he asked. I sighed.

"Well, none of the students are showing any signs of improvement. Brandon's in a coma, like the others. The doctors still don't know what's going on, but they're doing all sorts of tests."

"Did they find anything?"

"They found some kind of mysterious substance in their blood," I stated. "but they're not releasing what it is."

"Any theories?"

"I found something on a Shtriga, since they _do_ suck the life out of people, but I ruled it out. They only go after kids, and they attack at night," Sam nodded. "But I also found something on a croatoan."

"A plague demon." Sam supplied.

"Yeah."

"It's possible. Your father and I came across one that was spreading a demonic virus. They found sulfur in the victims' bloodstreams."

"You think this 'mysterious substance' is sulfur?" I wondered.

"There's only one way to find out. We need to see a blood sample."

"How are we going to do _that_?" I asked incredulously.

"We'll think of something." Sam reassured me.

The next day, Oliver and I were waiting for the two of them in the backseat of Dad's Impala. Whatever they were plotting, I knew it had to be something that was most likely illegal. They came out of the house dressed in very professional-looking suits. Once they were in the car, Dad handed Sam some sort of ID, which he also had for himself. I reached between the seats and grabbed Sam's before he could pin it to his suit.

"The CDC?" I cried. "Are you _crazy_?"

"Alyx, it's not like we haven't done it before. Quit worrying. You want to find out what's going on, don't you?" Dad asked. I nodded. "Well, then, shut up." I sighed and sat back in my seat, remaining quiet for the rest of the ride to the hospital. Dad instructed us to go see if we could visit some of the students in the Intensive Care Unit, while they tried to get a look at a blood sample.

Oliver and I went in first, walking casually to the front desk. A nurse with curly, blonde hair and hazel eyes sat behind it; she stopped working and looked up at us. "Can I help you?" she questioned.

"We're here to see our friend, up in the ICU." Oliver replied. The nurse quickly surveyed us from head to toe.

"Are you both 18? No one under 18 can visit the ICU." she stated.

"Yeah." Oliver and I answered quickly. The nurse wrote us up passes and told us that the ICU was on the fourth floor, and that our friends were bring kept in the same area, under quarantine. This also meant that for health and personal reasons, no one except family was allowed in. We were only able to stand outside.

Oliver and I took the elevator up to the fourth floor, and found the students from our school. They were in this large room, in beds separated by curtains for privacy. There were a ton of nurses and doctors constantly checking the many machines that they were all hooked up to.

"They all look so…helpless," I whispered. "It's horrible."

Meanwhile… (General POV)

Dean and Sam waltzed up to the same desk Alyx and Oliver had encountered, trying to make themselves look all official. The nurse glanced up and Dean flashed her his most charming smile. Sam fought back the urge to slap his older sibling in the back of the head, and stood there quietly.

"What can I do for you, sir?" she asked politely. Sam swore that he saw her cheeks turn a light shade of pink in his presence.

"We're from the CDC," Dean said casually, gesturing to himself and Sam, "We need to speak with the doctor who's been taking care of those kids who collapsed at Lawrence High School."

"Of course. Dr. Rivera is up on the fourth floor, the ICU. I'll page him to tell him you're coming."

"Thank you." Sam said. The brothers made a swift walk through the busy, hectic hallways of the hospital, hoping to get this over quick. Neither Winchester--be it Dean, Sam or Alyx--liked to be in any hospital, for obvious reasons. They found the nearest elevator and stepped in, taking it up to the floor where the ICU was located.

"You think it could be a croatoan?" Sam asked Dean on the ride up. The elevator they had taken was empty, so they were able to talk about the job freely.

"I don't know, Sam. I mean, last time, the victims were going crazy. These kids are just getting sick."

"What if there's more than one type of plague demon? Maybe this one just causes people to get sick; that's one way of creating panic." Sam suggested.

"Could be. But we know one thing for sure." Dean declared.

"And that is…?"

"Alyx and Oliver can't get infected," Dean said. When his brother gave him a partially confused look, he clarified, "Oliver is part demon. And, since Alyx has a demonic power, she's most likely immune to it, too."

The opening of the elevator doors broke the silence between them. They walked out and down a hallway. The brothers approached a doctor that they suspected would be this Dr. Rivera person. He appeared to be waiting for them.

"Dr. Rivera?" Sam asked. The doctor nodded and shook both of their hands.

"I'm Sam, and this is Dean. We're from the CDC--"

"So I've heard," he said, cutting off the younger brother, "Listen, I already talked to someone from the CDC two days ago. They came down here to take a look at everything and make notes on the case. They said they'd be in touch, but they never told me that they'd be making another visit."

"We were sent down here to take another look at one of the victims' blood samples, just as a follow-up. To make sure we have the right information to work on a cure for the disease." Dean stated. Dr. Rivera sighed.

"Follow me." he ordered. The brothers trailed behind the doctor, who took them into a very white and sterile lab where other doctors were glancing at different slides in microscopes. Dr. Rivera took out a blood sample that was safely stored away and kept on file. He motioned for them to come over to a vacant microscope. He placed the sample under the lens, and focused it so they could see. Sam sat down and looked at it, seeing that there were traces of a yellowish substance mixed into the blood.

"And you said that this substance in their blood was…?" the younger Winchester asked, to confirm his suspicions.

"We believe it's sulfur, but we have no ideas as to how it got in their bloodstreams." The brothers shared a knowing glance.

"Okay, I think that's all we needed to see. Thank you for your time, Dr. Rivera." Sam said.

Once they were safely in the elevator again, Dean got out his cell phone and called Alyx.

Alyx's POV

We were leaning against the car when my cell phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and answered it, seeing Dad's number on the caller ID.

"Yeah?" I said.

"It's sulfur." Dad said simply.

"Okay. So, now what do we do? Is it a croatoan?"

"Sam thinks it may be a different type of plague demon."

"How do we…get rid of it?" I asked.

"Well, we haven't exactly thought of anything yet."

"_Wonderful_," I answered sarcastically. "Why do I get the feeling that this particular job is going to be a pain in the ass?" Dad laughed, and hung up, saying that he and Sam would be out in a couple minutes. Putting my phone away, I turned to Oliver and said miserably, "We have _a lot _of researching to do…"


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. **

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of your reviews! Okay, before you read the chapter, I just wanted to tell you all that I'm going to write another one-shot, in Oliver's POV. I want it to be funny and have some fluff, but I don't have any ideas as of yet. If anyone has an idea for a storyline or a setting for this one-shot, let me know. Your ideas are greatly appreciated. Thanks!**

Oliver and I had given up our lunch period the next week in order to have time to devote to researching the newest hunt. It was a tedious job, but someone had to do it. Sam couldn't; he was too busy with his work, and Dad…well, Dad was never one for researching anyway. So, the task was left to the two of us. Luckily, we didn't mind too much. I mean, it was better than sitting alone in the cafeteria. Oliver and I had settled into the corner of the library, where there were a couple of computers hooked up. We couldn't use the computer lab this period because it was closed, but the library was a better choice anyway because there could possibly be books on the subject somewhere. And since Mr. Williams had confiscated all of mine, I had to find more.

"Do you think there could be any sort of connection between the victims besides them all getting sick?" I wondered, keeping my voice down. We couldn't afford to have anyone overhear our little private investigation. Oliver stopped scanning the webpage that he was on and thought about this. Then, a light bulb seemed to suddenly flick on in his mind because he had a look of shock on his face.

"Sixth period," Oliver whispered in reply. "Everyone collapsed during sixth period."

"Well, that's great. The number six is usually associated with the devil."

I continued to surf the Internet, searching for anything on plague demons. I found a lot on the croatoan, obviously, and other demons that are thought to be the cause behind anything from plane crashes to natural disasters. I must've rephrased the words 'sickness', 'plague' and 'demon' in a sentence about twenty different times before I discovered something that could remotely help us. I clicked onto a website all about the many types of demons (the ones that are known; for all we know, there are probably hundreds more) and searched through it before I saw something useful.

"I think I have something," I told Oliver quietly. He nodded for me to continue. "It says here that among the many forms of plague demons, there is one that causes severe illness. It's victims eventually slip into a coma, and their immune systems slowly deteriorate. This demon is referred to as the 'Plaga Morbus', which literally means, 'plague of sickness', but sometimes it's just called a 'Morbus'."

"That sounds like our demon." Oliver agreed as I read on further. I had a horrified look plastered on my features a moment later that prompted Oliver to ask what was wrong.

"It says that this plague demon usually takes six victims at a time, and once the sixth person is attacked, all of them…_die_." I stated. He cringed.

"That doesn't give us much time. It's already put five people in the hospital. Who knows when it'll strike next. Does it say how to kill it by any chance?"

I scanned down further. "The Morbus usually is an entity that possesses a person in order to inflict the illness."

"Wait. That makes sense. Every victim has been in a different class…the thing must be floating from one classroom to the next, picking random people to attack."

"Maybe it's possessing the teachers." I suggested. Oliver nodded.

"Could be," he agreed. "How do we kill it?"

"Uh…well, first you have to perform an exorcism to get the demon out of the host body," I explained. "And then, you have to shoot the entity--which, according to this, is just a huge blob of dark gray smoke--with a consecrated iron bullet."

"Easier said than done."

"Yeah. We have to track down the demon first before we do anything."

"Hold on…you had a theory that it could be possessing the teachers, right?" Oliver questioned. I nodded. "That would put your uncle at risk."

"He's not going to like hearing that."

I didn't need psychic abilities to know that my uncle would not take to our news and theories very well. It's not like he freaked out or anything, but I could just tell that this was bothering him a lot. When he and Dad had finally let the information sink in, they actually commended us for the research and being able to piece the whole thing together.

The next couple of days put us all on edge. Oliver and I were constantly on the look out for any signs of the next attack, even though there hadn't exactly been a warning sign before the other students collapsed. However, it helped to be on alert.

On Friday, Oliver and I were walking to lunch when I stopped off at the bathroom. Just as I was washing my hands, a splitting headache hit me like a ton of bricks. The pain was familiar; I knew right away that I was going to get a premonition. Bracing myself against the sink in front of me, I shut my eyes tightly and watched as the images played in my mind. First, I saw a close-up of the clock in Sam's classroom. It was 2:36 exactly. Sam was sitting at his desk, correcting papers; he was in the clothes that he was wearing today, so I knew this would take place later on. Suddenly, a large cloud of dark gray smoke was floating above his head. It entered his body and Sam's eyes flashed a coal black for a moment before returning to their normal color. Then, the vision ended. I stood hunched over the sink, trying to regain my breath. When I had calmed myself down, I pulled out my cell phone to call Dad, but I didn't have any service in the bathroom, apparently.

I dashed out of the bathroom and grabbed Oliver's wrist along the way, dragging him into a nearby broom closet. I shut the door, and fished out my cell phone again.

"Uh, Alyx, what are we doing in here?" he asked as I dialed Dad's cell. I got service in the dark, smelly, broom closet, but not the bathroom. It figures. I couldn't use my cell in the middle of the hallway, because there was the chance that I could get caught by a teacher.

"Alyx?" Dad asked as soon as he picked up.

"Yeah, Dad, listen…I need you to come to my school at about 2:40," I instructed quickly. "Bring a gun and consecrated iron bullets with you."

"Why? What's going on?"

"I can't explain all of the details, but make sure you come straight to Uncle Sam's classroom."

"Okay…" Dad replied skeptically. He hung up, and I shut my phone, shoving it into my pocket. Oliver stared at me.

"The Morbus. It's going to possess Sam?" he inquired as I opened the door and we shuffled out of the broom closet.

"Yeah. Which means we can exorcise it and kill it."

"But how do you know?"

"How do I know _what_?" I asked.

"That it's going to possess him at…whatever random time you mentioned," Oliver said. He paused, and stepped in front of me, grabbing my arm gently. "You _saw_ something, didn't you? A sign?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what was it?"

"I don't know, Oliver. It's complicated, all right? I don't really feel like discussing it at this point in time, if that's okay with you." I answered mildly. Oliver backed off, letting go of my arm. I started walking again and he fell in step beside me. After a minute or so of silence, he laughed softly to himself.

"Can we go _back_ to the broom closet…?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I smacked him playfully in the arm, laughing.

"Maybe some other time." I teased.

Oliver and I waited on pins and needles for the remainder of the day. I can't tell you how many times I glanced at the clock for the next few periods. If I wasn't looking at the clock, I was thinking of the Morbus that we'd have to take care of, or the exorcism we'd have to perform on Sam. Which would be an interesting endeavor, to say the least. I've done an exorcism on my boyfriend and maybe a few other random people, but never my own uncle.

As soon as the last bell rang, I bolted out of my seat and to my locker. Oliver approached me, watching as I pulled out a container of salt, the exorcism ritual that I had written down on a piece of paper, and a flask of holy water. I stuffed them into my messenger bag and slammed my locker door shut, locking it. Oliver shot me a confused look when I started walking _slowly _toward Sam's classroom.

"Shouldn't we be running?" he asked. I shook my head.

"No. The Morbus isn't going to possess him for another three minutes." I stated. Oliver and I ambled down to the foreign language wing, and made it to the Sam's room at 2:37. I stopped outside the door and pulled the flask of holy water out of my bag, placing it in the inside pocket of my jean jacket. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in." came Sam's voice from inside. Oliver and I entered, dropping our school stuff by the door.

"Hey, Sammy." I said cheerfully, acting as if nothing was wrong to make sure the demon didn't catch onto us. We approached his desk cautiously.

"Oh, hey, Alyx, Oliver," he replied. "What are the two of you up to?"

"Nothing much. Just wanted to drop by before we left."

"Cool. Have any leads on the hunt?" he asked. I wanted to laugh. Funny that he should ask that question…

"Actually, we do." I said, carefully extracting the flask of holy water from my pocket. I was about to unscrew the lid, when in one, fluid motion, Sam shot up from his chair and grabbed my wrist, knocking the flask from my hand. I watched as it flew across the room and hit the tiled floor with a metallic thud. When I looked back at Sam, his eyes were black. Remember when I said seeing Oliver possessed was the creepiest thing ever? Well, I think seeing Sammy possessed was even _worse_.

Oliver tried to lunge at him, but he was thrown into the air by the Morbus that had now taken over Sam's body. Oliver crashed into a large, wooden bookshelf in the back of the room with enough force that it fell over on top of him, sending the books raining on him as well.

Perfect. Now, I was left to take care of this…

Sam hoisted me roughly over his shoulder and went back over to his desk with me kicking and screaming. "Let me go, Sam! Put me _down_!" He threw me into his desk chair rather violently, and placed his hand over my mouth to silence my screams.

"_Quiet_." he ordered.

I was now officially scared out of my mind. I've never, in all my years, seen my uncle act this way…with so much anger, and hatred. I had to keep telling myself that this wasn't really him; it was the plague demon doing these things. It was pissed because Oliver and I had caught it and we knew what it was doing.

Sam removed his hand and started pacing in front of me as I tried not to let myself hyperventilate or anything.

"You know, it really could have been a simple job," the Morbus said. "I mean, I kind of expected more from you. After all, you did help kill the Demon, and he's certainly more high up on the food chain than I am." Sam let out a bone-chilling laugh. "But now I can see that you're just a stupid teenager."

"Stop it," I said firmly. "Let go of Sam." He laughed again.

"I _am_ your dear old Sammy, Ally." he replied, ruffling my hair with a sinister smile.

"No, you're not." I said loudly, standing up. Sam shoved me back into the chair, pinning my wrists to the arms of the chair with an unnecessary amount of force and strength.

"Shh," he told me, looking directly in my eyes with his now black ones. "We don't want anyone to come in here, now do we?" A moment after he said that, I heard the click of the lock on the classroom door. He had locked us in. Sam let go of me and leaned against his desk, watching my every move. "Dean and I have taught you so much. I can't believe you screwed up." Sam mused. Only it wasn't exactly Sam. The Morbus was trying to piss me off, and it was doing a pretty good job of it. "Dean will be disappointed to find that his little girl got herself and her boyfriend killed by a lowly plague demon…"

Where the hell was Dad, anyway? It was almost three o'clock…

"Speaking of Daddy dearest," Sam continued, "I bet you didn't know that Dean never really wanted to take responsibility for you after Jo died. Yeah, he was even considering putting you up for adoption or shipping you off to foster care. He didn't want to deal with you, Alyx. You know why?"

I shook my head. It wasn't true…it _couldn't_ be…

"He thought you'd be a burden, Alyx. He thought you were just another thing in the way of his quest for revenge on the Demon. He thought destroying the damn thing was more important than his precious baby girl. He was so willing to put the job before his family--his own _daughter_. Just like his old man." Sam said bitterly.

"Don't listen to him, Alyx. He's lying," Oliver warned. He had been listening to the entire thing, while trying to push the heavy bookshelf off himself. "Demons lie, you _know_ that."

I _did_ know that. But, demons _can _tell the truth, especially if they know it'll mess with your head. What if some of the things he was saying were true? Was it possible that Dad really didn't want me? Did Grandpa John actually put killing the Demon on the top of his priority list, rather than taking care of Dad and Sam?

My thoughts were disrupted when Dad broke through the door a moment later, holding a gun aimed at Sam. "Get away from her." he ordered sternly. Sam grabbed my arm and quickly pulled me out of the chair and to a standing position, holding me in front of him. A long, sharp knife materialized in his hand out of nowhere. He pressed the tip of the cold blade against my neck.

"Put the gun down, or I'll slit her throat."


	13. Chapter 13

I was terrified.

I was completely and utterly petrified that my now possessed uncle was holding an extremely sharp knife to my throat. And threatening to kill me.

Which he couldn't really accomplish even if he gave me a wound that was fatal to most people. I could heal from it in a matter of a minute now; I had gotten better at using my ability. But still, this predicament was making me very uneasy. In spite of the situation, Dad had his gun trained on Sam, and he had no intention of lowering it. Not until Sam released me and dropped the knife. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Oliver slowly getting to his feet. He looked like he was plotting to attack Sam so that I could get free.

"Oliver," I called, my voice shaking ever so slightly, "Don't move. Please, it's fine. He can't hurt me." Oliver nodded and stayed where he was, even though I knew he really didn't want to.

"Drop the knife." Dad demanded.

"Sorry, can't do that," Sam replied. "Lower your gun and I'll let her go." Dad reluctantly placed his gun onto the floor; I had a feeling that he had done that because maybe he had some kind of plan. Sam laughed wickedly, and lifted the blade from my neck, only to pierce my leg with it. I gave a pained cry and fell to the floor. Dad left his gun where it was and lunged at Sam, knocking him down. Dad pinned him to the ground and shouted for me to read the exorcism. I couldn't really move (seeing as the knife was still in my leg), so Oliver ran and retrieved the piece of paper from my bag and handed it to me. I got to a sitting position and started reading.

Sam struggled to get free as I read, but luckily Dad had him pinned pretty good. When I finished, the Morbus exited Sam's body and remained floating in the air as a large, ominous cloud of dark gray smoke. Dad let go of Sam, who laid there, dazed. He ran and grabbed his gun, aiming it at the Morbus. He pulled the trigger and the bullet made contact, causing the smoke to dissipate into a bright light.

Sam sat up just as I was pulling the knife painfully out of my leg. It healed in a matter of a minute or so, and I was able to stand up. A tense, awkward silence passed between the four of us; we just stood there staring at each other until a flustered secretary from the main office rushed into the room, and glanced back and forth.

"We heard a gunshot--" she said, out of breath. Luckily, Dad had hidden his gun before she had arrived.

"Probably just a car backfire outside." Dad lied, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the classroom windows, where the parking lot was visible. The secretary stared at him skeptically before inquiring about the bookshelf that had toppled over in the back of the room.

"We were just doing a bit of rearranging," Sam explained swiftly. "We were moving it when it toppled over."

"We'll clean it up, don't worry." Dad said as an afterthought of Sam's explanation. The secretary nodded and left the room, leaving us in the uptight awkwardness once again. I sighed and placed the piece of paper containing the exorcism in my pocket. I picked up my messenger bag, and without a word, I exited the room.

I didn't want to talk to either of them--Dad or Sam. I was angry, upset, and hurt. Angry because Dad was late, upset over seeing my uncle act the way he did--even though it wasn't his fault--and hurt because of things he had said to me. I kept trying to tell myself that it wasn't really him talking; that those words weren't true. But I didn't know that for sure. Did Dad think of putting me up for adoption? I don't know. He rarely talked about the period of time after Mom's death. Never said a word of how he felt about loosing her, or how he dealt with his grief.

Sam told me once that when Grandpa John died, Dad didn't want to open up about it at all. He just kept his emotions bottled up inside, carrying the burden with him until he exploded. Sam said that he knew Dad was angry and sad, but he couldn't exactly admit that out loud. He wanted to move on, kill the Demon. It made me wonder if Mom's death made him want revenge even more. Made him so blinded by the idea of it that he was willing to ship me off so I wouldn't be in the way like Sam had said.

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned right, slumping to the floor in a small alcove. I sat with my back against the wall, my knees to my chest, wishing the Morbus hadn't possessed Sam. That he hadn't said those things to put all of these questions and crazy thoughts into my head. _Maybe it did make sense that he would consider giving me up_, I found myself thinking suddenly, _After all, the Demon came for me that night. It's because of me that Mom died. Maybe, deep down somewhere, he's angry at me for that?_

I felt a wetness on my cheeks that I brushed hastily away, even though it wasn't any use. The tears came freely, and I let them fall. Soon, I was downright sobbing, trying to muffle my cries as best as I could. It was a matter of time before someone found me. Luckily, it was Oliver. He discovered my pathetic self weeping in a deserted corner of the school, and I didn't care. I needed him, then. Without saying anything, Oliver sat cross-legged on the floor beside me and pulled me to him, letting me cry into his chest.

"Shh," he soothed, "It's okay. He didn't mean it, Alyx. You shouldn't take what he said seriously. Demons lie, remember?" I nodded as my sobs finally receded.

Demons lie.

It was funny that Oliver was the one to finally get this message through to me. You know, since he's half-demon himself. But, unlike true demons, Oliver is no liar. He wouldn't lie to me; wouldn't do a thing to hurt me intentionally. I know this. He was right, I decided. I was just over-analyzing things. Letting them go to my head too easily.

I pulled away from Oliver slightly to look up at him. He wiped a remaining tear from my cheek and placed a soft kiss on my lips before helping me to my feet. We walked out of the building and to my car holding hands. The drive home was silent for the most part. When we met Dad and Sam at the house, neither of them spoke to me. It was just too awkward. I suspected Sam knew some of the things that he had said while possessed, and Dad was probably aware that something had happened before he had arrived.

I went up to my room to start my homework, which I didn't really have a lot of. I was almost finished with it when there was a knock on my bedroom door. I muttered an absent-minded "come in" while proofreading a short essay I had written. The door opened and Dad shuffled in. He watched me for a moment, hands stuffed into the pockets of his faded jeans. I heard him sigh and plop down into the fold-up chair that was across from my bed. I looked up and saw him run a hand through his hair.

"Alyx," he said quietly, "What did Sam say to you while he was possessed?" I stopped what I was doing and heaved a sigh. I hesitated before reluctantly explaining to him what our conversation was like. I told him everything; his comments about giving me up, putting the job ahead of taking care of me. He shook his head in disbelief when I finished. "And you believed this?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Sort of. I don't know, Dad. I didn't know what to think."

"Why would you ever seriously think that I'd actually consider putting you up for adoption?" he wondered. I shrugged again, and he crossed the gap between us and sat down next to me. "Alyx, that thought _never_ even crossed my mind."

"Never?"

"Nope. Not once," Dad reassured me. He paused for a moment, and then continued. "Your grandpa, he was a tough hunter. He was great at what he did, and I admired him for that. I wanted to be just like him; I hung onto every word, every order he gave me. Blind faith, is what Sammy likes to call it." Dad paused again. Suddenly, I realized we were even more alike than I thought. He wanted to be like Grandpa John as much as I wanted to be like Dad. "But he wasn't perfect, Alyx. No one is. He made some mistakes. Sometimes, he'd be so focused on a hunt that he thought it was more important than me, or Sam. And I swore the day you were born that I'd never do that."

He was exactly right. Today, he had directed his attention to making sure Sam didn't hurt me while he was possessed, rather than doing the exorcism or killing the plague demon. I smiled and leaned over to give him a hug.

"Are you okay now?" he asked. "Everything good between us?" Dad smirked.

"Yeah," I replied, returning the same exact smirk. I followed him out of the room and downstairs to find Sam. He was in the living room, correcting papers. I sat down beside him and flung my arms around his broad shoulders. He gave me a half puzzled, half amused look. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk to you--giving you the silent treatment and all."

"It's all right." Sam laughed.

"It was wrong of me to take it out on you when you weren't the one who said any of those things."

"It's okay, Ally. I understand. Really." Sam assured me with a smile.

And just like that, everything was right again.

The same couldn't be said for the school. Sure, the victims of the Morbus had miraculously returned to good health, but our supernatural troubles there were far from over.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing that you recognize…**

_Standing in the doorway, I saw the ceiling of the nursery in flames, a baby wailing in the crib, and the frantic voice of a mother I only saw in my dreams. That's how I knew it was dream, after all. Nonetheless, it all seemed so real, and I couldn't seem to shake myself from it. I had no choice but to see what it was trying to tell me._

_I ran in the direction of Mom's panicked yells, and found her lying huddled in a corner, a deep wound on her abdomen. This was all wrong, though, wasn't it? Wasn't my mother supposed to be on the ceiling? And where was Missouri to rescue me--the infant me--from the fire?_

_I knelt by Mom's side, and to my utter surprise, she looked up at me with a pained, tear-streaked face. "Alyx." she whispered. How could she see me? How could she talk to me?_

_"Mom?" I said, uncertain. Confused. I was extremely confused…but then my own panic mode kicked in, and I found myself thinking, 'Can't I save her?', even though I knew none of this was really happening. I grabbed her hand--it was so cold compared to the heat of the flames that I thought I was actually feeling. "Mom," I repeated. "Please, let me help you…I can get you out of here…" Mom shook her head._

_"No," she said weakly, yet firmly. "No, Alyx, it's not meant to be."_

_Okay. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Why couldn't she come with me? Why couldn't I have a mother? Why does it have to be this way?_

_"Please--" I begged._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I love you…I was just trying to protect you, Alyx…"_

I awoke just as my mother's hand went limp in mine. I sat up in bed and scanned the room, disoriented and sweating. It was 5:30 in the morning. The sun was slowly beginning to come up, and with it, the Christmas holiday. I yawned and sat with my back against the headboard. Heaving I sigh, I leaned over and started rifling through the stuff under my bed. When I found my mother's diary, I sat back with my comforter draped over my shoulders to keep warm. With it being the middle of winter, it was a tad bit chilly. I yawned again and stared down at the book in my hands.

So, this was it. All of my answers (hopefully) were in this one, little book…the key to my freaky dreams and premonitions, as well as my mother's past…

I drew a deep breath and opened it.

The first couple of entries were about events in my mother's childhood; she didn't write much, only her feelings after her father died, and stuff about hunting, the Roadhouse, and things that she had picked up from other hunters along the way. It was interesting to see her perspective on things, but the first entry that really caught my eye was dated back to when she was around my age.

Dear diary,

Today, I was helping Mom in the back room of the Roadhouse, taking inventory, when I got this killer headache. I swear it was as if my head was about to explode. And then, I saw something. It was almost like a movie reel was playing in front of my eyes and only I could see it. I saw Mom drop a glass and me accidentally stepping on a broken shard, only to have a nasty looking cut on the bottom of my foot. It was so strange… Mom asked if I was all right, and I, of course, lied. I don't know what's going on with me.

Jo

Taken aback, I flipped to the very next entry, which was much shorter.

Dear diary,

You know that weird headache thing I got the other day? Well, what I saw came true. Right now, I'm too freaked to write anything else. I'm also debating whether or not I should tell Mom. I probably won't.

Jo

I stopped right there, shocked. Well, that explained one thing. My mother had premonitions like the ones I was now getting. My mother was a psychic, and apparently no one but her knew of this. And, (lucky me) I was the one who had inherited her "gift". I guess me and Mom have a lot more in common than I thought. I'm just as stubborn as she is with the whole visions thing.

I scanned through the next few entries, reading bits and pieces of my mother talking about meeting my dad for the first time and getting all girly with the details. The entry after that one skipped forward a year, and Mom was talking about Dad proposing to her. I stopped to read an entry when I saw my name.

Dear diary,

Dean and I visited the doctor's today to get another ultrasound. We found out that we're going to have a little girl; we couldn't be happier! I already had knowledge of the baby's sex prior to the ultrasound, because I had one of my visions again. I haven't had one in a long time, and this one came in the form of a dream. I saw myself and our baby girl, Alyxandria, (I had always liked that name, and it has a strong meaning to it as well, since it literally means "defender of mankind". Fitting for the child of two hunters, don't you think?) getting attacked by the same demon--The Demon--that killed Dean and Sam's mother. I knew from the moment Dean and I found out that we were going to have a child that he was dreading that six month mark. Needless to say, I am, too. But now I know the Demon is going to strike for sure--that he wants to use our daughter in some way; that maybe she is a 'special' child, like her uncle. I want to protect her from him. I know the only choice I have is to fight him off myself and sacrifice myself in the process because it's meant to be. I know it's meant to be, since the other part of my dream was seeing Alyxandria growing up, with Dean and Sam to take care of her. I know they'll raise her well. This is my decision, as a parent, to look out for her well-being. And by sacrificing my own life for hers, she'll get the chance to grow up into the strong woman that I know she's destined to be.

Jo

I wiped a tear that had managed to make its way down my face. So this was what she was so incredibly sorry for? She gave up her life so that I could live that night. She knew the Demon was definitely coming beforehand, and she sent my dad and Sam on that hunt anyway, and told Missouri to come to the house, knowing the psychic would arrive just in time to get me out of the fire.

It wasn't fair.

Yes, it was a very brave, compassionate, selfless thing for her to do, but it left me without a mother. I was about to throw the stupid book across the room when I noticed a folded piece of paper that was paper clipped to the page following the last entry. Curious, I pulled it out and unfolded it. I was surprised to find that it was addressed to _me_. It was dated as the day before her death.

To my beautiful daughter Alyxandria,

By the time you will discover this, you will be a teenager. I know you'll be upset and angry with my decisions, but you should know that I did the right thing, Alyx. It was my own choice to give my life to save yours. Don't ever blame yourself for my death, either. It wasn't your fault. There is no one to blame but the Demon. And by now, you, Dean and Sam have already taken care of him. I've seen it all, Alyx.

Before you were born, I had premonitions of your life; I saw you grow up. I knew you'd be a Healer. I also knew that you'd inherit my psychic abilities at around the same age when I first discovered I had them. But please, Alyx, don't make the same mistake I made. Tell your father and Sam about it. It's no use keeping everyone in the dark about this. Sam can help you, too, Sweet Pea. I know you're a little freaked out about it, believe me, but you can't hide this forever like I did.

I know about Oliver, as well. He's a great guy, Alyx; you're very lucky to have him. You two have been through a lot together. Trust me, the obstacles aren't over yet, though. There's still people and things out there that are unhappy about your relationship. Demons and hunters alike. I'm telling you this to give you a heads-up, especially when you start having a family of your own. Protect your children and yourselves at all costs, Alyx.

You are a great person, Alyx, and a great hunter. I was never very good at the job, but you…hunting is in your blood. Whether you choose to pass it on to your children is yours and Oliver's decision.

I want you to remember one thing, Alyx: Family is everything. No matter what happens in your life, stick by the family you have. Dean, Sam, Oliver, Missouri, Bobby, Ellen…they're all good people. They'll take good care of you if you watch out for them in return.

All of my love,

Mom

Once I was finished reading, I placed the diary back under the bed in its original hiding spot. As for the note, I tucked it under my pillows and made my bed. It was 6:00 in the morning now; I knew that no one in the house would be awake yet, even if it was Christmas morning. I got dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and sat on the edge of my bed with a yawn.

I knew we weren't the type of family to spend a very normal holiday together. It just wasn't us. But the line in my mother's note bearing the message, 'Family is everything' got me thinking. Why couldn't we spend this Christmas as a family for once? I smiled and picked up my cell phone from my dresser. I dialed Missouri's number first.

"Hello, Alyx. Merry Christmas." she said as soon as she picked up.

"Merry Christmas, Missouri. Hey, listen, I was wondering if you'd like to come over and help cook up a nice dinner for everyone."

"Everyone? What exactly are you plotting?" she laughed.

"I was planning to surprise Dad and Sam; have you, Bobby, and Ellen over for the holiday." I whispered.

"That's very thoughtful of you. I'd love to come. What time would you like me head over to your house?"

"Three o'clock?" I asked. "Would that give us enough time to cook dinner?"

"Hmm…I'll tell you what…I'll cook the turkey over here, and we'll make everything else at your place. Sound good?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Missouri."

"No problem. I'll see you later, then."

I hung up, and dialed Bobby's number. I knew Ellen would most likely be at his house; we hadn't gotten word yet on whether or not she had found a new house or apartment to settle into. I think Bobby called once in the summer to tell us she was working on getting the Roadhouse rebuilt or something.

Bobby picked up after a few rings; I was almost afraid that he wouldn't be home. "Hello?" he asked. His voice was rough and groggy, indicating that he had been asleep prior to my phone call.

"Merry Christmas, Bobby. It's Alyx."

"Oh, Alyx…everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Is Ellen at your place right now?"

"Yeah, she's here. Why?"

"Do you think you two could make it to Lawrence for dinner?" I wondered. He chuckled on the other line.

"I think we could." he laughed.

"Great. Thanks, Bobby. See you later," I said. I hung up and threw my phone onto the bed. I crept across the hall to Oliver's room, knowing that I'd need his help with this to pull it off. He was sound asleep, face buried in his pillows. I stood over him and shook him a little. "Oliver…Oliver, wake up." He groaned and rolled onto his back. His eyes opened slightly to look up at me.

"Alyx?" he smiled. He glanced at the clock. "Merry Christmas." He sat up and hooked his arms around my waist, pulling me onto the bed. Oliver cupped my face in his hands and kissed me before I got a chance to tell him my plans for the day.

"I invited my family over for dinner. Dad and Sam don't know." I explained after we broke the kiss.

"Awesome. And, I'm guessing the reason you woke me up is that you need my help, right?"

"Yep."

Oliver got dressed, and we snuck out of the house while Dad and Sam were still sleeping to make a run to the store. This time, I left a note. The two of us had to get food for the night's meal, as well as a nice tablecloth and other holiday accessories for the dining room table. Setting everything up without them asking questions would be the real challenge, though. We decided not to set the table until Missouri arrived.

When the doorbell rang at three o'clock, I chose to let either Sam or Dad answer it. Sam ended up opening the door; he was shocked to see Missouri standing there, with a large platter covered in aluminum foil--what I guessed to be the turkey.

"Missouri? What are you doing here?" he asked, ushering her inside. I casually made my way into the living room.

"I believe your niece invited me over for dinner." she laughed. Sam looked at me and I smirked. Missouri followed me into the kitchen, and when Dad saw her, his expression was the same. I was helping Missouri get out all of the supplies that Oliver and I had bought when Dad gave me an odd look.

"Alyx, this is a lot of food for four people…" he mused.

"Who said it was just going to be us?" I questioned, a mischievous smirk on my face. Dad raised an eyebrow.

"What did you _do_?" he asked, jokingly.

"_Nothing_…" I lied in a singsong voice.

Oliver and I were setting the table when our other two guests arrived. Dad and Sam were in the living room as I opened up the door to reveal Ellen and Bobby.

"Merry Christmas." I said, giving Ellen a hug and letting the two of them inside.

Ellen gave Dad a hug and reading the surprised look on his face, said, "Why do you look so shocked to see us?"

"Because," I cut in with a smile, "the two of them had no clue that I had invited you all to dinner."

Ellen put her hands on her hips, glancing at me with a little grin. "You put this together yourself?"

"Yeah--" I began, but Oliver cleared his throat. "With Oliver's help." I laughed. "I just figured that we all needed a…somewhat normal holiday to spend time with each other as a family."

We went into the dining room and sat down at the table, which I had adorned with a red tablecloth and a few green candles in the center. The food was laid out in the middle; the aroma of turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and other foods was amazing. Missouri always knew how to cook a great meal. We ate, passing around plates and dishes of food as we talked, swapping stories and memories and jokes.

Ellen told me about Mom when she was a little girl, Bobby shared stories of his most exciting hunts with Grandpa John, Dad told everyone about certain memories of him and Sam growing up. This was probably the best semi-normal holiday we've all spent together. (Semi-normal in the respect that most of our conversations involved talk about hunting. But what could you expect? It wasn't like we were going to stand around the Christmas tree and sing carols or something. Well, not unless Dad, Sam, or Bobby got drunk enough to do so, which would be entertaining…and provide me with some good blackmail…) I was glad that I had decided to plan this whole thing.

Maybe our holidays should be more like this one…


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't anything from Supernatural, sadly…**

**A/N: Thanks for all of the reviews! It's always nice to know people read this and actually like it…lol**

My eyes suddenly fluttered open, and I found myself staring at the bright, red numbers of my digital clock--the only real light in the room--and groaning inwardly because it was only a little past one in the morning. I was beginning to get used to this nightly routine; being jolted awake from nightmares and visions, and the constant insomnia. I sighed and rolled onto my back to stare at the ceiling, letting the premonition in my dream replay itself in my mind. For once, this dream didn't involve my mother at all.

I saw a man, maybe in his late forties, early fifties, with graying hair and dark brown eyes. He had a very noticeable pink scar under his right eye, and he was wearing a janitor's uniform. He was cleaning what I guessed to be the floor of the basement of my high school. The basement was sort of dark; the only light was coming from a fluorescent light above his head. Then, I saw a dark silhouette of a figure walk swiftly into the room, and creep up behind him. He was listening to music, so he couldn't hear the person/thing that was there. The last thing I saw was a blade glistening in the light, then I heard the guy yelling as he was attacked. That's when I woke up.

I knew that this was something that had to be prevented. I mean, why else would I see it? The only problem was that I didn't know when this was supposed to happen. The premonition hadn't given me any indication of a specific time. So, how was I going to stop it? I knew where it was going to take place…that was a start. Maybe if I snuck out and did a little investigating at the high school…No one would be there--except for maybe the custodial staff--since it was the holidays.

I climbed out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, as well as my combat boots. I placed my switchblade in my pocket and crept down the stairs as quietly as I could. I left my car keys in the kitchen, so I'd have to get those, obviously. However, as I neared the kitchen I was surprised to find the light on in there. I groaned. This meant that I wasn't going to be able to sneak out tonight…unless it was Oliver…

I ambled cautiously into the kitchen and found that it was Sammy, not Oliver, who was also up at this unearthly hour. He was fully dressed like I was, and loading a handgun with bullets. He looked up when he heard me enter the room.

"What are you doing up?" he asked as I was trying to swipe my keys off the counter without him noticing.

"I should ask you the same thing. What's the gun for?"

Sam stopped what he was doing and set the gun on the table with a frown. He crossed the gap between us and took the keys from my hand. He stood in front of me, his arms folded over his chest.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on, or am I going to have to play twenty questions with you?" he asked. I shrugged.

"You didn't answer _my_ question." I reminded him.

"You didn't answer mine, either," he pointed out. When I didn't say anything for almost a full minute, he had no choice but to explain first. "I had a premonition, all right? I was going to go over to your school to check things out."

This made me freak out a little. "Sam, what did you see?" I demanded.

"Uh, well, there was this guy…he looked like he was one of the janitors at the high school. I saw him get attacked by something." he clarified. I swallowed hard. It looks like I had no choice but to tell him about my visions, too…

"This janitor guy…did he…did he have a scar under his right eye?" I wondered. Sam stared at me, genuinely shocked.

"How did you know?"

I paused. I really didn't want it to come to this. I didn't want to tell him; Dad and Sam didn't need another thing to worry about. I looked down at the floor, hesitant. Sam bent down a little and grabbed my shoulders gently.

"Alyx, how did you know that?" he repeated, quieter this time.

"I saw it, Sammy," I told him, glancing up. "I dreamt about it." He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. He set the keys back down on the counter and turned to face me.

"Have you had dreams like this before?" he wanted to know. I nodded.

"I dreamt about Oliver before I met him last year," I explained. "Then, this year I started having dreams about my mom; things that had already happened."

"Last year? Ally, you kept this a secret from us for _that_ long?"

"I'm sorry…I was just…I didn't know what to do about it, okay?" I snapped. There was a short period of silence before I decided to tell him about my premonitions during the day. "And…uh, remember that day you were possessed?"

"Yeah."

"I had a premonition of you beforehand. That's how I was able to get Dad there in time. That vision…I had it during the day." I stated.

"I don't understand how you're a _psychic_." Sam said, laughing a bit from the shock of learning that his niece was also a psychic freak like he was. Or something like that.

"Sam," I said quietly, "My mom was a psychic."

This information made his jaw practically drop to the floor. "_What_?"

"I read it in her diary. She started having premonitions when she was around my age. She never told anyone about them, but I guess I inherited it from her."

"You know you're going to have to tell Dean about this, right?" he asked. I nodded.

"I figured as much," I replied. "So, about this janitor…"

"Oh, yeah. We better get going." Sam said, tucking the gun away safely.

When we arrived at the high school, we approached one of the entrances, trying not to look suspicious. This wasn't too hard, since it was almost two in the morning, the parking lot was empty, and there wasn't really anyone on the roads or nearby to see us breaking into the school. Sam picked the lock with ease and we stepped inside, turning on our flashlights. We didn't have to worry about setting off a security system, because there wasn't one. Our school was too cheap to have one installed. I wasn't complaining, though. It just made breaking in easier for us hunters.

Sam and I made our way down to the basement, our flashlights darting everywhere, looking for any sign of a shadowy intruder.

"What do you think is going to attack him?" I whispered.

"It almost looked like a person."

"That's what I thought, but I didn't get a good look at it. Maybe this person is possessed."

"It's possible. Or, it could be some kind of shape shifter."

I cringed. My family has a thing against shape shifters, if you didn't know.

"Let's hope not."

Once we reached the basement level, we scanned it up and down. It was completely dark and silent, except for our footsteps echoing on the tiled floors. We went directly to the spot where the janitor was to be attacked, only to find no one there.

"Damn it." Sam cursed under his breath.

"I don't get it. When is this supposed to happen?" I asked.

"Apparently, not tonight."

"Okay…so how exactly are we supposed to save this guy? Camp out in the cafeteria and wait? I don't know about you, but this place is giving me bad vibes with all the weird crap happening lately. For all we know, there could be a Wendigo hibernating in the boiler room waiting to eat half the student population." I shuddered. Sam laughed at my over-active imagination.

"I doubt there's a Wendigo lurking in your school."

"You say that _now_, but when it happens…"

"I won't let it eat you," Sam laughed, ruffling my hair a little. "Come on, let's go."


	16. Chapter 16

"Tell him, Alyx." Sam whispered as I stood in the entranceway of the living room a few days after our failed investigation. It was two days before school started up again. Dad was sprawled out on the couch watching some kind of movie, half asleep. Oliver had been watching the movie with him, but he had fallen asleep almost an hour ago. Mind you, it was the middle of the afternoon.

"No." I said through gritted teeth.

"You promised you would."

I spun around to face my uncle, who stood behind me with a disapproving look on his face. Unfortunately, I knew the look all too well. He often used it when my report card came home and he saw my miserable excuse for grades, or when I got into some sort of trouble at school.

"I know, Sam," I replied, keeping my voice down, "but what do you propose I tell him? You saw how he flipped out when Missouri told him about me being a Healer. And, I don't think he'll be too pleased with the fact that Mom never told him she was a psychic."

Sam thought about this briefly. "When we got home the night you told me, didn't you say Jo wrote you a letter explaining everything?" I nodded. "So, why don't you just give him the letter?"

"Good plan." I stated before bounding up the stairs to my room to retrieve the letter my mother had written. Once I got it, I ran back to the living room and approached the couch with Sam watching me from the doorway. I plopped down on the edge of the couch, jostling Dad enough for him to fully wake up and mutter a profanity under his breath. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he slowly got to sitting position, glancing in my direction.

"What's up, kid?" he asked, lowering the volume slightly on the TV. I hesitated before answering.

"Dad…I need to talk to you." I declared.

"About what? This isn't going to be one of those 'birds and bees' talks, is it? 'Cause I thought I covered that when you turned thirteen…" I rolled my eyes, not bothering to point out that he hadn't really been the one to explain _that _to me. As I recall, it was Ellen. But I wasn't going to argue.

"No, Dad," I said flatly. "I was, uh, looking through Mom's old things one day and I found her diary." I explained. "And I found this letter in between the pages. It's addressed to me, and according to the date, it was written the day before she died." I held the piece of paper out to him, and he gave me an odd look. He took the letter and started reading it while I sat in uncomfortable silence, staring down at the floor. Once he was finished reading, he let out a sigh and hesitated before speaking to me.

"I can't believe this," he said in a frustrated tone. "I don't understand why she didn't tell us about it--about knowing that she was going to die; about you being wanted by the Demon."

"She had her reasons, Dad." I said quietly.

"She didn't have to die," he replied. "Damn it, if she would've just said something I could've saved her." He said it more loudly than he intended, waking Oliver up in the process. He sat up from his awkward position in the armchair and shot me a 'what-the-hell-is-going-on?' kind of look.

"Mom gave up her life to save mine! If you were in her position, and you knew about it beforehand, I know you'd do the same."

This made him grow silent. "You're right," he answered, and left it at that. "So, what she said in here is true? You really have visions like Sam?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I said quite miserably. Sam cleared his throat loudly, giving me a dirty look. "No offense, Uncle Sammy, but the whole visions thing totally sucks."

Before Sam got a chance to make a witty, sarcastic comment in reply, Dad cut in. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

I didn't need premonitions to know that question was coming.

"Because, I knew you'd freak. Plus, I was trying to deal with the shock of it myself."

"But I don't--" I cut Dad off.

"Please, can we not argue?" I pleaded. "We don't have time for that."

"What do you mean?" Dad asked. Oliver had the same confused look on his face, so I decided to elaborate.

"Sam and I had a premonition the other night. Something's gonna kill one of the janitors at school." I saw Oliver's shocked expression, mixed with a hint of anger. He was staring at me with a look that said, 'Why didn't you clue me in?'. It was amazing how good Oliver and I could practically hold a conversation without speaking.

"_Something_?" Dad questioned.

"We didn't exactly see what it was." Sam clarified.

"Okay," Dad said, standing up, "So we'll keep an eye on the school."

For a moment, I didn't think he meant it in a literal sense. But, as he dragged us all out of the house and to the Impala at ten o'clock that night, I realized that he had planned a stakeout. Which meant we'd all be sitting in the car, staring at the school bored out of our minds, waiting for something to happen. Believe me, there's not much you can do to occupy yourself when stuck in a car--in the dead of winter, I might add; it gets cold especially because we have to leave the car off so no one will notice us--for God-only-knows how long.

It was nearing one-thirty in the morning and we hadn't seen anything suspicious at all. I was leaning against Oliver, wrapped up in a fleece blanket from the trunk to keep warm. I was almost asleep when I heard Oliver's stomach grumbling extremely loud. I started laughing like it was the funniest thing ever, which in reality, it really wasn't. But I was so over-tired and bored that I felt sort of loopy. And so, because I was laughing, Oliver started laughing as well, since he probably felt the same way. Dad and Sam both turned around and stared at us like we were a couple of idiots.

"What the hell is your problem?" Dad wanted to know. I shook my head, still in the midst of a laughing fit with my boyfriend.

"I…have…no…idea." I giggled. Oliver and I were able to compose ourselves for a minute, but when we looked at each other again, we began laughing once more. Dad gawked at Sam.

"Do you know what's going on?" he asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine." Sam shrugged.

Once the laughing dissipated, I sat up and leaned over to look under the backseat. I was just about as hungry as Oliver was, and knowing Dad, he'd have some kind of food in the car. I rummaged through the dark, dirty depths of the backseat until I managed to fish out a bag of M&M's. The bag looked slightly questionable--who knew how long they'd actually been in there for?--and there was only a handful or so of M&M's left. Also, to my utter shock, they were plain, and not peanut, which was usually my dad's favorite.

"No peanut? Dude, what the hell _is_ this? I can't even find decent M&M's in here. You're slacking, Pops." I said to Dad, who threw me this odd look.

"Yeah, 'cause _sugar_ is the last thing you need right now," Dad pointed out. Sam started laughing this time, out of nowhere. "what's up with _you_?" he asked my uncle.

"She called you 'Pops'…" he laughed. Dad smacked him in the arm.

"Shut up, Sam." he warned. All was silent in the car until I held the bag of M&M's up to Oliver.

"No, thanks. I think I'll pass."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

I set the M&M's on the seat in between us, and stared out the window with a sigh. Outside, a light snow had begun to fall; I watched the snowflakes land on the window, straining my eyes to see the intricate designs on them that were barely visible. I did this for some time, while glancing at the school periodically. When I got tired of that, I let out another sigh and slouched down into the seat.

"Can we go home now? I mean, nothing's happened. No one's gone in, and no one's come out. This is so _boring_…" I complained. All I wanted to do was get some sleep in a nice, warm, comfortable bed. 'Cause I sure wasn't going to get any sleep here.

"Remind me never to bring you on a stakeout ever again." Dad muttered.

"Gladly." I retorted.

I groaned and sat there for a moment, before seeing the bag of M&M's sitting there next to me and getting a brilliant idea. I poked Oliver's arm and gestured for him to be absolutely quiet and just watch. He nodded, and I reached into the bag, pulling out about three or four M&M's. I sat with my knees drawn up to my chest, and set one of the brightly colored candies on my knee. I waited for a moment, then using my index finger and thumb, I flicked it in my Dad's direction. The M&M sailed through the air over my dad's head. It hit the windshield and fell onto the dashboard with a small clink. Oliver and I struggled to contain our laughter when Dad started looking around for the source of the tiny noise. He gave up, and continued to sit in his seat in silence.

I waited a half-minute before flicking another M&M his way. This one hit the back of his head. He rubbed the spot where it made contact, and turned around sharply to glare at the two of us.

"What?" I shrugged. He made a face, mumbled something under his breath, and turned back around. I flicked a third M&M at his head. This time, Sam saw me do it, but he didn't say a word. He found it just as amusing as I did. Dad glowered at me. "Cut it out." he warned.

"What? I wasn't doing anything…" I said, acting all innocent.

"Like hell you weren't." he replied. Once he wasn't looking again, I waited a good five minutes, secretly contemplating how much better a peanut M&M would work. Then, I flicked the fourth M&M from a different angle, so it hit him in the side of the head. He was caught totally off guard.

"Son of a bitch!" Dad swore, rubbing the spot where the accursed M&M had struck. "Alyx!" He reached into the backseat and took the bag of M&M's away, throwing them onto the floor by Sam's feet.

"I'm sorry," I laughed. Dad ignored me and slouched back into his seat like a pissed-off five-year-old. "Oh, c'mon, Dad. You gotta admit it was a little funny."

"Not even close." Dad pouted.

"Really? Not even a _teeny_ bit?" I persisted.

"_No_, okay? I'm sorry if I don't get any joy out of being smacked in the head with candy." he answered moodily. I rolled my eyes and sat with my head against the window.

"Jeez, someone's PMS-ing." I muttered.

"What was that?" Dad demanded.

"Nothing, _Daddy Dearest_…" I replied sarcastically.

The car was quiet after that. I settled more comfortably in the seat, lying almost in a fetal position so Oliver could have some room as well. I closed my eyes, hoping to get at least maybe a half hour of rest. Sleeping like this in a car isn't any picnic, but I thought I'd try anyway. I was _so_ close to being asleep _again _about ten minutes later, when something small and hard smacked me in the middle of the forehead.

"Son of a bitch!" I cursed angrily, sitting up with lightning fast speed. I saw Dad leaning over the back of his seat, in a fit of laughter. I looked on the seat next to me, and sure enough, there was an M&M sitting there. Upon seeing my shocked expression, Dad just laughed harder. "Jerk." I told him.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" Dad chuckled, amused. It was scary how a man could find so much entertainment out of hitting his only child with a piece of candy. It was just more proof of how immature he really is.

After about another half-hour, Dad decided to call it quits. We hadn't seen any suspicious activity the entire night. Sam suggested that we take a quick look in the school before leaving, and Dad agreed. So, armed with flashlights, weapons (just in case), and a lock pick, we entered. We went down to the basement; a large, dark room lined with pipes and filled with cleaning supplies. It was damp and smelled like mold. The tiled floor was cracked and covered in dirt from use over the years. Not the most pleasant of places, as one can imagine.

Oliver and I went to one half of the place, finding that the large main room branched off into a few smaller rooms and a hallway that served as storage areas. Sam and I hadn't explored these last time we were here; we had only searched the supposed spot of the janitor's murder. Dad and Sam searched the other side. We walked along, our flashlights guiding the way. I stopped in my tracks upon hearing a faint rustling, scratching sound.

"What is it?" Oliver asked. I put my index finger to my lips, telling him to be quiet and listen. Oliver apparently heard it, and moved in the direction of the sound, the light from his flashlight trained on the grimy floor. He stopped when he entered a storage room, and pointed to a few cockroaches that had taken up residence there.

"That's disgusting," I shuddered. Oliver knelt down on the floor and picked one of them up; it was hissing angrily at him, its legs and feelers thrashing wildly. "Oliver, that's gross. Put it down." Oliver dropped the cockroach, but it didn't fall to the floor, because he was currently using his telekinesis to keep the insect suspended in the air, just a mere foot from my face. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the cockroach went flying at me. Once it hit me, I started jumping up and down, trying to shake it off. When it fell to the floor, I stepped on it with a sickening crunch. Meanwhile, my loving boyfriend was snickering, finding it hilarious.

"I'm glad _you _find it amusing." I told him bitterly. He smirked, placing his arm around my shoulder.

"You should've seen your face," he laughed. "You were doing that whole girly screaming thing…"

"Whatever," I replied. "C'mon." I tugged on his sleeve and he followed me down the short hallway that was lined with old computers and broken desks that the school was most likely planning to get rid of eventually. At the end of that hallway, we were taken aback to find another door. Cobwebs surrounded this door, which was made out of wood that was severely worn with age and covered in a thin layer of dust and filth. The knob on the door was rusted and also plastered with spider webs. Below the doorknob was an almost ancient skeleton key hole. Oliver turned and tugged on the doorknob, but with no avail. The door didn't budge. He even tried to walk through the door using whatever abilities he had, but he couldn't get in.

"What the hell do you think they're storing in there?" Oliver wondered.

"Old prehistoric junk? I don't know…," I answered, glancing around at the out-dated crap they were keeping in this place. "The maintenance people are a bunch of friggin' pack rats, if you ask me." I picked up a text book that dated back to the early eighties and rolled my eyes, tossing it aside.

"Alyx, take a look at this," Oliver said. He was brushing off the layer of dirt on the door, revealing a large, ominous symbol painted in black. To my knowledge, it looked like an inverted pentagram. "An upside-down pentagram. It's a representation of the devil."

Oliver and I examined every square inch of the door and the area surrounding it, looking for anything else that could hint to something supernatural. We didn't find a thing, but the inverted pentagram gave us proof that something was definitely weird about it.

I mean, it just _not_ normal to stumble across a door bearing the symbol of the devil in the basement of your high school.

Oliver and I left the hallway, meeting Dad and Sam in the center of the main room.

"Anything?" Dad asked.

Before Oliver had a chance to open up his mouth, I very subtly elbowed him in the arm and replied, "Except for a few cockroaches, nothing." I wanted to do research on the mysterious door myself.

"All right. Let's get home." Dad said. I nodded, and Oliver and I followed behind Dad and Sam out of the basement.

"What was that for?" Oliver whispered, referring to my method of shutting him up.

"We can do the research ourselves. If it's anything major, we'll tell them."

We didn't know it then, but that stupid door and what was behind it would cause us _a lot _of trouble.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Alyx, Oliver, and a few various characters that I've made up for this story.**

When Oliver and I returned to school, it was a new year. But that didn't change anything as far as the school was concerned. In fact, I think things got worse. We pulled into the parking lot that Monday to find everything in utter chaos. It seemed as if the entire student body, as well as the faculty, was congregated there amidst the cars, all talking elatedly to one another. Some were on their cell phones, passing the news onto others.

There were a couple police cars, an ambulance, and a coroner's truck parked near the entrance; cops were mulling around the outside and walking in and out of the building. All of them, I noticed, wore shocked or confused expressions. I had a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach once I stepped out of the car that the janitor Sammy and I had seen had been killed. And we hadn't been able to save him.

Oliver and I shared concerned glances and made our way over to the large crowd, squeezing through the mob of people. I spotted Amy, the girl who had been in my math class when one of the students had collapsed from the demonic virus. We had become sort-of friends after that, oddly. I approached her; she was watching the police officers intently, a hand over her mouth in awe.

"Amy," I called. "What's going on?"

"Oh, hey, Alyx," she said with a slight smile. "I'm not really sure. There was a rumor about a murder…someone said that the cops also found blood on the walls in strange symbols…" I glanced at Oliver knowingly just as Sammy found us and quickly came over.

"It was the janitor, wasn't it?" Oliver questioned. Sam nodded.

"I just spoke with a police officer. He said Zachary Warren--the janitor--was brutally attacked with a knife. His blood was splattered on the walls, forming some pretty weird markings." he explained. I raised an eyebrow.

"Markings?" I asked.

"Yeah, well, that's what we'll find out later." Sam stated, keeping his voice down.

Just then, Mr. Williams stood in front of the crowd, holding a megaphone. Once everyone quieted down a bit, he addressed us.

"Attention students and faculty: it is advised by the local police department that you all return to your homes as quickly as possible so the authorities can continue their investigation. There is no school as of right now; we will make sure to contact you when it is safe to resume classes. Thank you." With that being said, half the students began filing out, glad to have an extended vacation.

"All right, I'm going to stay here for a bit, see if I can get more information. Maybe get a look at the crime scene." Sam said quietly. He headed off, leaving the two of us among the students who hadn't yet filtered out of the parking lot. Amy was one of them. She had just gotten off her cell phone, heaving a sigh.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"My mom's at work, and she can't get out until noon to pick me up. My dad's out of town on business, and I don't have a key to get into my house. So, basically, I'm a bit screwed." she laughed.

"You can come over to my place until your mom gets off work, if you want." I suggested.

"Really? Your parents wouldn't mind?" she asked.

"Nah. My dad's at work until five or so, and my uncle's going to be here for awhile. It's fine."

"Thanks, Alyx. I appreciate it." Amy replied, grateful. The three of us climbed into the car, and drove back home. We entered, and I made Oliver go through the house very discreetly to make sure none of the hunting equipment was in plain sight. Luckily, everything was okay. I led Amy into the living room, flicking on the TV to see if the story was being covered on any of the local news stations.

"There's something weird about all that's been happening at our school this year." Amy mused suddenly. This got me interested.

"Yeah? How so?" I inquired.

"Oh, I don't know…I guess it's just strange how people were getting severely ill, and then they got better again, like nothing happened. And now a bizarre murder? I don't know about you two, but I think something isn't right."

"Funny you should say that…" Oliver stated.

"Oliver." I warned, through gritted teeth.

"Relax, maybe she could help us." he pointed out.

"What are you talking about?" Amy wondered, looking from Oliver to me, perplexed.

"You're not the only one who's concerned about the current situation at our school, Amy. Let me ask you this: would you say that you're a fairly open-minded person?"

"Oliver, I _swear_…" I repeated. He was going to break one of the important Winchester rules, and I didn't want to be on the receiving end of Dad's lecture if he found out. Oliver ignored me and waited for Amy's reply.

"I think so. It depends…what exactly are you asking?"

"Whether you're a skeptic or not--when it comes to the paranormal. You know, ghosts, poltergeists, urban legends…"

"_Demons_." I supplied, with a particularly dirty look in Oliver's direction.

"I'm not really a skeptic. I don't doubt that there could be other things in this world that can't be explained." Amy answered.

"Great. Well, that makes three of us." Oliver said.

"What does this have to do with our school?" she wanted to know.

"We did some investigating on our own," I cut in. I decided not to hold a grudge--I mean, all Amy knew was that we weren't skeptics. She didn't actually know about hunting, so we were safe. Besides, she didn't seem like the type to tell anyone about this, anyway. "And Oliver and I found this door in the basement of the school. It was locked and there was an inverted pentagram painted on it." Reading Amy's confused expression, I quickly clarified. "It's a symbol associated with the devil."

"And, you think this…_symbol_ has something to do with the things happening at school?" she asked.

"Possibly," Oliver replied. "We won't know until we do some research; dig up all the dirt we can on the school."

"I'm good at research." Amy said eagerly. I smirked.

"If you're willing to help us with this, you have to keep quiet on the subject. We'll all get hauled off to the nearest mental hospital if anyone found out about this investigation. Clear?" I ordered.

"Totally," Amy agreed. "Now, if you want to do some good research, we have to hit up the local library." she suggested.

So, I left a note for Sam, and we headed over to the public library downtown. It was a very large, two-story library with rows upon rows of books, and some fairly new computers, perfect for researching. We had to be quiet, not only because of what we were looking up, but because one of the librarians here--according to Amy--was old, mean, and she yelled at you if you were making too much noise.

We chose a computer located in the far corner, and Amy sat down in front of it, with Oliver and I on either side of her.

"How do we want to begin this? What should I look up first?" Amy asked.

"Try looking up Lawrence High School," I suggested. "See if something weird comes up about it."

Amy went onto a web search, and typed in the name of our school. There was a lot of stuff about the classes offered, and different programs, and other general information about the high school, but nothing suspicious. It went on like this for another four or five pages, until we found a Lawrence-based site focusing on local lore, legends, and myth.

"Click on that." Oliver told Amy. She nodded and clicked on the webpage. It brought us to an article with the headline: 'Lawrence High Site of Suspected Devil Worship in the '60s'. The three of us glanced at each other, stunned.

"It says that the high school was built in the late seventies, but before that the grounds were supposedly used by a cult. They knocked down the old building in order to construct the school, but the underground chambers are said to be still there." Amy whispered.

Oliver read on. "The cult was known as "Diabolus Exercitus", or the Devil's Army. It was formed in the early sixties by a man named Lucien Van Holt. It's said that the Devil's Army had members who were either mortal or demon. Van Holt and his followers were rumored to be heavy drug users, conducting bizarre practices while under the influence."

Amy scanned down the page further, and I picked up where Oliver had left off. "The Devil's Army is also believed to be responsible for a sting of missing persons cases throughout the sixties. Over a period of six years, six girls ranging in age from 15 to 25 disappeared and were never found. Their cases remain unsolved to this day. The police, at one point, suspected Van Holt and his followers were somehow involved, but by the time they received warrants for arrest, the members of the Devil's Army had gone into hiding, and construction on the school had already begun."

"Whoa. Hold on, there's more…it says down here that according to modern myth, Van Holt made a deal with an upper level demon soon after going into hiding. This deal allegedly gave Van Holt demonic abilities. It's believed that Van Holt is still alive…"

"Well, that's just great." I sighed.

"So, do you think this Van Holt guy is the one doing all of this?" Amy asked.

"It's a logical theory." Oliver agreed.

"But if he's back, then why _now_? Why does he choose _this_ year to cause problems?" I wondered. Oliver shrugged.

"I'm not sure. I mean, he has to have some kind of motive for it, right?" he asked.

"I guess. Although, it looks like Van Holt's got his demon buddies doing his dirty work for him." I replied.

"Well, yeah. Maybe he thinks it's too dangerous for him to commit the crimes himself--after all, he was wanted by the police, and he probably still is." Amy pointed out. I nodded, surprised by Amy's logic and intellect. She was very useful to have around.

"I think we should take a look at those missing persons reports." I suggested. Amy and Oliver agreed. Amy managed to find a website with the Lawrence newspapers dating back to the time when the disappearances happened. She clicked on an article that was written after the sixth girl went missing; it had pictures, names, and ages of each girl, but their last names were blurred out at the families' request.

"Susan, age 15. Maria, age 18. Cheryl, age 19. Patricia, age 21. Brenda, age 24. And, Karen, age 25. None of the girls seem to have anything in common as far as appearance, ethnicity or age. So, what's the link between them?" Amy wondered. Oliver was silently scanning the article.

"They all disappeared the night before a full moon," Oliver stated. "Police said that the girls were kidnapped at night, but their family and friends didn't discover it until the next day. At each of the crime scenes, there was an inverted pentagram on the victim's bedroom wall in the victim's blood."

"Okay…" Amy said quickly, shuddering. She laughed. "I think that's enough research for today. Besides, my mom's going to be getting out of work soon. I'll just tell her to pick me up here."

Once Amy left, Oliver and I got into my car and started to head back home. We were halfway there when I got a call from my dad. I fished my cell phone out and answered it, while trying to drive. Not the safest thing to do, but I was a pro at it.

"Dad? What's up?"

"I got out of work after Sam called to tell me what happened." Dad said. His voice was low and grave. It seemed as if he was having this conversation in a place where he didn't want anyone to overhear it.

"Okay, well, Oliver and I got some information--" I started, but Dad cut me off.

"Listen, Alyx, there's a friggin' cop here. He was sent by Mr. Williams. He said you're a suspect in the murder of that janitor."

I stopped the car so quickly and abruptly that the tires screeched on the pavement. I pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked.

"_What_?" I hollered. "No, I--I wasn't--how can they _think_ that?"

"I don't have time to talk. Just get yourself here. We'll find a way out of this." Dad advised. I muttered something in response and hung up. I pounded my fist on the steering wheel, angered, trying to fight the urge to start crying.

"Alyx, what is it?" Oliver questioned.

"The cops and Mr. Williams think _I_ murdered the janitor."


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize.**

It was the second time I had been handcuffed. And, it was the second time I'd taken a tense, silent ride down to a police station in the back of a cop car. To be labeled as a criminal yet again. But, unlike last time, I had nothing to hide. I had nothing to lie about. I _didn't_ kill that janitor. I really wanted to know who named _me_ as a suspect. Dad had said that the cop was sent by Mr. Williams. Did my principal think I was that much of a cold-hearted person?

The cop who had been in charge of driving me to the station was a tough, muscular bald man who I guessed had a strong dislike for teenagers. I was able to determine this by the way he had put the handcuffs on earlier; he put them on so roughly that I thought the metal was gauging into my skin. He could've been a tad bit more gentle. I mean, I _am_ a woman, after all. He needs a little help in the _respect _department. To top it off, he kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror, like I was going to hijack the car at any moment and make an escape.

Once we pulled into the parking lot at the station, I spotted the Impala right away. Dad said he, Sam and Oliver were going to meet us there. He and Sam were going to try to do some damage control; see if they could get me out of this. Hopefully, they'd think of something clever.

The cop parked in front of the doors and dragged me out of the backseat, leading me into the building from behind. I could feel everyone's eye on me as we entered--police officers and criminals alike. I kept my gaze on the floor, and only looked up when I heard Dad and Sam's raised voices as they spoke to another cop who had been at the high school earlier. Sam shot me a solemn look that held promise. I gave him a small nod as the cop led me down a maze of hallways to an interrogation room--a place I knew all too well--and I was told to sit at the table. I remained handcuffed, and the cop left, only to be replaced by another officer who stood guard by the door, watching my every move. I heaved a sigh and laid my head down on top of the cold table, closing my eyes.

This was going to be one _very_ long night…

And it was. I figured they forgot about me for awhile, because I fell asleep and woke up about an hour later. Then, officers and detectives kept shuffling in and out of the room, asking me the same damn questions over and over again. Where were you last night? What were you doing? Who were you with? I had to keep telling them all numerous times that I did not kill the janitor; I wasn't anywhere near the school last night. I got so fed up with everything that I demanded to know why I had been arrested in the first place.

Finally, a female detective explained that the reason Mr. Williams had named me a suspect was that the symbols on the walls matched a few of the symbols in a book on demonology he'd confiscated from my locker. And, apparently there had been some Latin written on the walls as well; of course, Mr. Williams knew that I happened to be fluent in the language. But, I reassured her that I had nothing to do with the murder. Why would I kill an innocent person that I barely knew? They had it all wrong. It was just a few days ago that Sam and I were making plans to save this guy. Obviously, they had no knowledge of this, and I had no intention of telling them.

So, the detective left, and I sat wallowing in self-pity, on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Because I was so not enjoying this at all. Being stuck in a police station, facing murder charges at the age of seventeen when I really didn't do anything wrong but was falsely accused by my rotten jerk of a principal.

I was left to rot for a couple of hours, where I sat in pure boredom with the same cop staring at me from his post by the door. I tried to strike up a conversation with the guy, but he didn't seem very amused so I stayed silent. I took to counting the cracks in the tile floor under my feet, and staring at the clock on the wall on the other side of the room. When I got tired of that, I watched the chaos outside of the room through the window to my left. Cops bustling with convicted felons in tow, yelling, the clicking of people typing away at computers, co-workers chatting over coffee. And I was stuck in here like some shut-in. I felt so alone…and dare I say it, afraid.

I was happy when Oliver entered just after nightfall, holding two Styrofoam cups of coffee and a large, brown paper bag. The cop stayed in the room even as Oliver pulled up a chair and sat opposite me, setting the coffee and bag on the table.

"I come bearing food from the outside world." he laughed.

"Very funny." I replied, rolling my eyes. Oliver opened up the bag and handed me some French fries and a burger from a diner down the street. I was starving, so I dug right in, trying to eat the best I could with my hands handcuffed together.

"How are you holding up?" Oliver asked. I shrugged.

"Okay, I guess. Is my dad and Sam still here?"

"Yeah. They've talked to a bunch of cops, but none of them will really listen to their side of the story. They're making us go home in a little bit, but I think your dad and Sam have some kind of…" he stopped and glanced at the cop standing in the room, who was momentarily not paying attention. Oliver continued, keeping his voice quiet, "I think they have some kind of alternate plan."

I sighed. "You're leaving me here by myself?" I asked, giving him a lopsided grin.

"I can come back later and visit."

"How?" I wondered, an eyebrow raised.

"You're forgetting that I have many ways of getting into locked places, Alyx."

This was true. Oliver could unlock anything with his mind, go anywhere in the blink of an eye, and literally walk through walls.

"Okay." I answered, just as there was a knock on the door. Dad and Sam walked in, telling Oliver that they had to leave. Oliver gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up and following Sam out the door. Dad stayed behind for a moment.

"Don't worry," he told me. "We have everything covered." I nodded and watched him leave. I trusted the three of them to get me out of this insane mess. What exactly they had in mind to do so, I had no clue.

Meanwhile, at Amy's place… (General POV)

"Amy, hon, I'll be back in a little while," Amy's mother declared, grabbing her car keys off the hook near the front door. "I'm going to make a run to the store. Do you want me to pick you up anything special?"

Amy peered over the back of the couch in the living room. "No, thanks." she answered.

"All right. You sure you'll be okay here by yourself?" Amy's mother persisted. Amy rolled her eyes. Of course she'd be okay; she was seventeen after all. And this wasn't the first time she'd been left at home alone at night. What could possibly happen while she was in a house with a modern security system and every door and window locked? Amy wished her mother wasn't so worrisome and overprotective sometimes.

"Yeah, Mom."

Nodding, Amy's mother departed, leaving her daughter in their quiet, suburban home. The teenager was lying on the couch, buried in pillows and a fleece blanket, searching the channels for something entertaining to watch. It was amazing--they had over two hundred channels, and yet, there wasn't anything on. Amy settled on the Food Network for awhile, until she actually managed to find a halfway-decent movie.

Deciding to make popcorn, Amy got up from the couch and walked through the dark house to the kitchen, where she flicked on a light. While fishing out a packet of popcorn from the cupboard, the teenager thought she heard a strange noise--like a low, faint growl. Amy stopped what she was doing and looked around, her blue eyes darting in every direction.

"Hello?" she called. It couldn't be her mother; she couldn't be back so soon. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her? She hated to admit it, but being alone in the house at night did sort of freak her out a bit. Especially after that devil worship stuff she had discussed with Alyx and Oliver in the library earlier.

Amy went back to making popcorn, glancing over her shoulder occasionally while she waited for the microwave to finish popping the kernels. Even over the popping noises, Amy swore that she heard that growl again. This time, it seemed louder. Trembling a little, Amy abandoned her popcorn and stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Hello?" she repeated. Her voice echoed through the room. "Who's there?" Amy wondered how anyone--if someone was in fact in the house--could get in without triggering the alarm or breaking a window. Surely, she would've heard the intruder at some point. But all she heard was this menacing, low growl. Again, it was louder than the last. Amy's breathing caught in her throat as she ran to the front hall. She threw the hall closet door open, and grabbed the softball bat that was stored there. Holding it with a white-knuckled grip, Amy stood in the living room, waiting.

"Who's in here?" she asked aloud, voice shaking. "I'll call the cops if you don't get the hell out of here." Amy warned.

The next growl was overpowering, and it came from the top of the stairs this time. Amy, horrified, concluded that whatever was in the house wasn't a human being. In fact, it almost sounded like…a _dog_. Shuddering, Amy made her way to the foot of the stairs and looked upward.

She saw a pair of malicious, red, glowing eyes staring at her from the shadows of the upstairs landing. No, this wasn't a human after all. Amy was right; it was a dog, but it wasn't like any other dog she'd ever seen. The thing was as black as coal, and more beastly and large than a normal dog. It let out an ear-piercing bark that made Amy jump, and bore its fang-like, razor-sharp teeth. At that point, Amy knew she was in a world of trouble.

In an instant, the huge, black dog bounded down the stairs wildly, pouncing on the teenager before she had a chance to escape. The bat fell out of her hand and lay at her side while the rabid dog clawed at her body. Amy's terrified, pained screams filled the entire house as she struggled under the beast's weight, trying to push the thing off her. She managed to grab the bat, and with her remaining strength, took a swing. The massive dog gave out a hurt cry and backed off enough to let Amy get up and run.

Amy grabbed the portable house phone on the way to the bathroom, which was the only room on the lower level that had a lock. Amy ran inside, turning on the light. She slammed the door shut and locked it, tears streaming down her face. She knew the thing would be coming for her again, and she didn't want to suffer another attack. She already had deep claw marks on her face that stung horribly and were oozing blood. Her shirt was ripped in a few places, revealing cuts and claw marks on her skin underneath. There was even a few scratches on her lower legs.

The seventeen-year-old was about to call 911 when the beastly dog started clawing and pounding on the bathroom door, barking and growling like crazy. Amy slumped to the floor, back against the door, hoping that the thing wouldn't break the lock and kill her. With shaking fingers, she dialed 911 told the emergency operator on the other line her situation. They promised that the police and an ambulance would be arriving shortly. Amy hung up, and decided to call her friends--the ones that knew more about unearthly beings such as the one that was currently on a murderous rampage in her house.

Amy dialed Alyx's number, but was only met with her voicemail message, which probably meant that her phone wasn't on. Desperate, Amy hung up and then dialed Oliver's number…

Meanwhile…Downtown Lawrence (General POV)

Oliver sat in the coffee shop that he and Alyx had gone to on their first date. After getting back to the Winchester's place, he decided to take Alyx's car and get some real coffee, not the crap he had at the police station. He hoped Dean and Sam's plan would work, whatever that plan happened to consist of. Neither brother had exactly informed him.

As he was just finishing his coffee, his cell phone rang. He had expected it to be either Dean or Sam, calling to tell him that everything had been cleared up. He was surprised to find, after digging his cell phone out of his back pocket, that it was Amy. He and Alyx had given Amy their numbers just in case she happened to find more information concerning the school's dark past.

"Amy?" he asked.

"Oliver," she sobbed, "I'm in my house alone and there's this huge black dog with these _red_ eyes and he came out of nowhere and he attacked me and now I'm trapped in my bathroom with the door locked and he's trying to break down the door and I did call the police but…I don't know…I called Alyx but she didn't answer so I called you…I'm scared, Oliver. _Please_, you have to help. I don't know what the police can do 'cause this dog just _isn't_ normal…" Amy was talking a mile a minute. She was hard to understand with her crying uncontrollably and the loud noise in the background, but Oliver could get the gist of her situation.

"Okay. Okay, hold on, Amy. I'll get there as quickly as I can. Just hold on, all right?" Oliver reassured the hysterical girl.

"Hurry!" she cried.

Oliver hung up and bolted out of the café, walking briskly to the midnight blue Impala. It was unusually dark; the moon was hiding behind ominous, bleak clouds. The wind whipped against his jacket, and sent a few crumpled, old, brown leaves hurtling across the ground. The back parking lot was almost deserted, and the teenaged boy got the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Oliver stopped dead in his tracks when he heard an angry growl from behind him. Reluctantly, he turned on his heel and was met face-to-face with the same glowing, red eyes Amy had described. A Hell Hound. What had he and Amy done to get Hell Hounds sent after them?

The Hell Hound growled and showed Oliver its fangs, hatred burning in its fiery eyes. Oliver backed up a bit, hands out in front of him, palms facing the angry beast, in a sort of 'back off' gesture.

"Whoa. Easy there, boy." Oliver coaxed, taking a few more steps backward. The Hell Hound barked and came at Oliver, knocking him clean off his feet. He hit the pavement with a rough thud, and the large dog was able to leave a deep claw mark on his cheek before Oliver threw him off using a sudden burst of telekinesis. The Hell Hound flew a few feet, slamming into the back of a car hard enough to leave a considerable dent.

Oliver ran to Alyx's car, jumped in, and sped off toward Amy's house. He would make sure the emergency crews got her out safely, then he would go to the police station to get Alyx. He had a horrible feeling that a Hell Hound would be after her next.

Lawrence police station…(Alyx's POV)

I finished the food Oliver had graciously brought me, and then fell asleep again shortly after. I had a dream this time. Not like a premonition, more like an actual nightmare. I dreamed that I was locked in a cold, steel jail cell, alone, surrounded by darkness. I was screaming and crying for someone to help me, to get me out, but no one could hear me shouting. It felt like I was trapped there for ages. I began to go insane, thinking I was hearing faint voices calling my name from somewhere in the pitch-black around me. I started hollering for them to stop; to leave me be. I covered my ears and lay huddled on the floor in the cell, wishing for this to come to an end. Finally, I awoke in a cold sweat, to see the female detective, whose name I had been told was Maria, shaking my arm.

I sat up to see that it was just past midnight. Maria was sitting in the chair opposite me that Oliver had vacated hours earlier. She had a steaming cup of coffee next to her, which she took a sip of before addressing me.

"I have some good news, Miss Winchester," she began, "We got a phone call about a half-hour ago from a woman who claims to be a family friend. Miss Missouri Moseley…name ring a bell?"

I grinned. "Yes."

"She heard about your arrest and called to set the record straight. She said that last night, you and your boyfriend were staying at her place while your father and uncle were out of town. Is this correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"She said the three of you were watching movies all night, and therefore, there was no way you could've left to go to the school. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, it looks like you're pretty much free to go," she stated. "I just have to make a few calls, and then I'll let you know when you can leave." Maria smiled and I thanked her before she left. The cop who had stayed in the room the entire time took the handcuffs off, and asked if I could be trusted to be left by myself. I reassured him that I wouldn't go anywhere, and he exited the room, probably happy to be done babysitting me.

Just a few minutes after the cop and detective left, Oliver appeared at the outside window. He was standing on the landing of the fire escape that led up to this floor, knocking on the window furiously. I got out of my seat and unlocked the window, pulling it up. He climbed in, out of breath.

"Why didn't you just use your--" I began to ask, but I stopped when I saw the horrible cuts on his face. They were deep, and were bleeding quite a bit. Oddly, they looked like claw marks. "What the_ hell _happened to you?" I asked, running a finger along his cheek. He flinched and pulled away.

"Hell is right," Oliver said. He grabbed onto my arms gently. "Listen, we have to get out of here."

"I am. They're letting me go."

"We don't have time to wait for them," Oliver stated. "Amy was attacked by a Hell Hound, and another one came after me. Which means you're probably next."

"What? Why would Hell Hounds be after us?" I asked, fearful.

"I don't know, but we have to hurry, Alyx. They could be anyw--" Oliver was cut off by terrified screams and shouts from outside the room. We could see people running around…running from _something_. Abruptly, the door to the room was trampled down; torn from its hinges by the massive Hell Hound. It stood in the doorway, on top of the fallen door, growling like the wild animal that it was. I swallowed hard. I had never encountered a Hell Hound before, but I heard that they were particularly nasty, vicious creatures.

"Oh, _shit_," Oliver breathed. He grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him, and the two of us slowly stepped backward into a far corner. The thing had us trapped, basically, with our only escape being the window. But making a run for it would be a major risk. "Listen, if it comes at us, I want you to run to the window, and get yourself out of here."

"But, Oliver--" I protested.

"Alyx, please. Just go. I don't want you getting hurt." he stated. I was about to pull the 'I'm a Healer' card, but I knew he wouldn't listen to it. He was just trying to protect me, which was really sweet of him. Because, I mean, protecting your girlfriend from evil supernatural creatures wasn't really in the boyfriend job description. But then again, we weren't exactly the normal couple, now were we?

The Hell Hound glared at me like a pissed off bull ready to charge. Then, without warning, it came toward us. I found myself running to the window as Oliver was slammed into the wall by the beastly dog. I climbed out and onto the fire escape, where I remained standing. I poked my head through the window and saw Oliver trying to push the Hell Hound away. Using his telekinesis, he threw the Hound across the room, where it slid over the interrogation table, toppled over the chair, and landed on the tile floor.

"Oliver, hurry!" I yelled. Oliver got to his feet painfully and started making his way to the window when the Hound came to life, jumping clear over the table. I was helping Oliver climb out as the Hound caught up with him and took a swipe with its razor-sharp claw, ripping through his clothes and giving him a gash on his lower back, near his side. Oliver yelled out in pain and fell onto the landing of the fire escape. I caught him before he hit the ground, and helped him to his feet. I slammed the window shut so the Hell Hound wouldn't escape as easily.

"Let's go." Oliver said, grimacing from the sting of his wound. He handed me the keys to my car, and we walked as quickly as we could to my Impala. On the drive home, I was on the phone with my father to report all that had happened. I explained that I had been sent home from the police station a free woman. I also explained that my friend, Amy, had been attacked by a Hell Hound and that she was now in the hospital. I told him Oliver and I had been attacked as well.

When we got to the house, Sam and Dad were immediately at the door, demanding information and asking if we were all right. The four of us sat in the living room to discuss this strange turn of events, trying to make sense of it. Oliver was sitting in a chair in pain; he wouldn't let me heal him. Stubborn boy. I kept insisting, but he just continued to tell me he was fine.

"Why would Hell Hounds come after you?" Sam asked, "I don't understand…"

"I think I do," Oliver said suddenly. "I think maybe this has something to do with our research."

This made a lot of sense. I knew what Oliver was getting at. "Yeah. Maybe we know too much. Maybe Van Holt found out, and he sent the Hell Hounds after us to make sure he and his buddies don't get ratted out to the cops by a bunch of teenagers."

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. What are you talking about?" Dad asked.

"Oliver, Amy and I did a little research on the school earlier," I said. "Apparently, the school grounds were the site of devil worship in the sixties. A guy named Lucien Van Holt led a group of mortals and demons in cult practices. They were responsible for a number of missing persons reports of young girls in the sixties, too."

"Alyx, this guy couldn't have sent the Hounds after you. He's probably in jail or dead." Dad tried to reason.

"No. See, the cult members went into hiding before they could be arrested on suspicion of murder. And while in hiding, Van Holt made a deal with an upper level demon to give himself supernatural abilities. He could be immortal, for all we know. We think he's back for some reason, and he's pissed--it explains all the weird stuff going on at school."

"And, when Alyx and I were looking around the school's basement the other night, we found an old door with an inverted pentagram on it. It was locked; I think it leads to the underground chambers that the cult used. They built the school right over it." Oliver added.

"I want you to be careful," Dad warned. "This is some pretty strange crap you dug up, so who knows what could happen. Devil worship isn't anything to mess around with."

"Yes, sir." I replied.

"I doubt you'll have school tomorrow, so we'll take a ride up to the hospital to visit your friend, and ask her a few questions about the attack." Sam informed us. We nodded, and I said goodnight to my father and uncle as they retreated upstairs to their rooms for the rest of the night.

I sighed and plopped down onto the couch, glancing over at Oliver who was sitting uncomfortably because of the pain.

"This is ridiculous," I told him. "I'm healing you _now_."

Oliver looked up at me. "I'm fine." he said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, you look real _fine_ to me," I muttered sarcastically. "Oliver, please. Just let me help you." He sighed and decided to give in. He sat down beside me on the couch. I placed my hand on his cheek, over the vertical cuts, and in just a moment or so, the wound was gone. "Shirt. Off." I instructed.

I saw the smirk playing on his lips at my order. He removed his ripped, bloodied shirt and tossed it onto the floor. He turned so his back was to me, and I inspected the wound while trying not to get too distracted by his well toned, muscular back, or how nicely tanned his skin was, even during winter. Believe me, it was difficult.

This wound was much deeper; the Hound had definitely succeeded in taking a particularly nasty swipe at Oliver. The long, vertical gashes were bleeding pretty profusely. I decided that it would be easier to heal if I cleaned it up a bit first. It was a tip Missouri had given me awhile ago.

"Hold on," I said, getting to my feet, "I'll be right back."

I returned with a cold, damp washcloth. Kneeling behind him, I wiped the blood off and stopped the bleeding by applying pressure. Then, I gently placed my palm on the wound; Oliver flinched, so I pulled away quickly.

"Sorry." I apologized.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured me. I positioned my palm back over the wound, and concentrated. The cuts took under two minutes to heal completely. "Thank you." Oliver whispered, turning around to face me. He brushed away a strand or two of hair that had fallen into my eyes, tucking them behind my ear. He stroked my cheek softly with his thumb. He smiled, and I melted all over again when I saw those adorable dimples of his. Suddenly, his hands were on my waist and he was covering my lips with his. I put my hands on his back, feeling up his perfectly sculpted body while deepening the kiss. Jeez, this was one hell of a thanks for patching him up…not that I was complaining. I broke the kiss, and the two of us smiled at each other, Oliver's hands cupping my face. I gave him a small kiss on the lips before standing up.

"Good night." I told him, biting my bottom lip to keep from blushing.

"Good night." Oliver replied.

As I retreated upstairs to my room, I realized that I was probably the luckiest girl in the world to have someone like Oliver.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything from the totally awesome show, Supernatural. I'm not getting paid for this, even though us fanfic writers should...lol jk. **

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing. Your encouraging words are what keeps me writing, so thanks a lot!**

I hate hospitals. They're just about as bad as police stations. Nothing good ever comes from entering one; it's just a depressing place that smells like cleaning supplies, latex gloves and death. My family feels the same way about them as I do. But here we were, visiting Amy the day after we were all tracked down by Hell Hounds. Amy had been hurt the worst, and therefore her doctors had kept her overnight to be safe. And since we weren't allowed back into school yet, Oliver, Sam and I had come to question her and tell her our theories about exactly _why_ we were all attacked.

Because that still wasn't making too much sense to me. I mean, according to my knowledge, Hell Hounds only go after people who've made some kind of a deal with a demon. Neither of us have done so. Believe me, I would _never_ make any sort of compromise with any demon; their terms are screwy and they're in no way fair. But anyway, I don't get it. If it _is _Van Holt, maybe he's trying to tell us to stay out of his business. He's back, that much we knew, and he's certainly bent on revenge. On what, we don't know. However, this 'warning' wouldn't prevent us from finding him and taking his sorry ass down. As far as I could tell, Van Holt was a force to be reckoned with, and he needed to be stopped. Who knew what sort of stunt he could pull off next?

When we reached Amy's room, she was sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed, dressed in street clothes, but looking worse-for-wear. Her face was bruised and the long cuts were stitched up and covered with bandages. Despite her state, she offered us all a smile as we entered.

"It's nice of you to visit," Amy said as we crowded around her. "They're actually letting me go home in a little bit. My mom's filling out the paperwork."

"That's good," I answered. "We wanted to drop by to see how you were…and we also wanted to ask you about, you know…what happened last night."

I could see Amy shudder as she recalled the events of last night in her mind. "Oliver told me it was a…_Hell Hound_?" she questioned uncertainly. "I told the EMT it was a rabid dog that somehow broke in. They seemed convinced enough--they gave me a rabies shot and everything."

"Yeah, it was a Hell Hound all right," Uncle Sam said. "We just don't know why. Oliver and Alyx seem to think it's this Van Holt person."

"Makes sense," Amy agreed. "We did think that he was back and all."

"Well, one thing's for sure. Once they let us go back to school, we have to keep an eye on the place." Oliver pointed out.

And boy, did we ever. Not that anything horribly major happened--except maybe for a few strange occurrences and one serious incident that only applied to me, Amy, and Oliver (I'll get to that later)--but still, things weren't as they should be. We could just _feel_ the unearthly energy in the place.

The police gave the school permission to send everyone back a week later, even though they hadn't caught the killer yet (which they weren't going to anyway; that much I could guarantee.). They reasoned that we couldn't afford to miss any more days for classes. However, they were forced to beef up security, which meant that police officers would be on the campus at all times, and every student had to go through a metal detector in the morning. There were also officers searching our backpacks at random. I guess I was on some 'watch' list or something, because an officer went through my messenger bag every single day without fail. It was a good thing that I had taken the bowie knife out of my locker before the winter break, too, because they did locker checks. They did question the fact that I had a container of holy water, and a huge thing of salt. I told them I was a religious and highly superstitious person. They gave me an odd look and didn't say anything.

Amy didn't return to school for two weeks, because of the doctor's orders and because she really couldn't maneuver too well to actually get around to her classes, since she was so sore. Oliver and I gathered her homework each day and gave her a report on the school. She was getting more into the supernatural; trying to do some research while she was bored at home. She never questioned why we knew so much about the paranormal, or anything like that. She just thought it was a weird hobby of ours that we'd taken to the next level by investigating the school. Amy didn't pick up on the detail that we were hunters, and I doubt she would unless she saw us "in action", so to speak.

By the time we were in classes together, it was mid-February, and things had been quiet at the school. Oliver and I were grateful for this, since it gave us time to focus on our studies and anticipate acception or rejection letters from colleges. We had both applied to colleges around the state, as well as many scholarship applications, which Sam had forced me to fill out even though I told him my less-than-impressive grades wouldn't help get me anywhere.

Oliver needed the scholarship money, because his inheritance from his mother and the pay he was getting from his new part-time job wasn't going to exactly do the trick. When he did get letters saying he had received financial aid--practically a full ride--I wasn't surprised; I knew he would get at least some type of scholarship, since he got better grades than I did, and he was an excellent writer (he planned to go to school to study journalism). He could probably get in anywhere as well, but me, on the other hand, I had a hard time finding colleges that offered the courses necessary to become a parapsychologist. Kansas State University was the college Oliver and I both wanted to get into above all, for the reason that it had the courses we wanted to take. (A/N: I don't think Kansas State University offers anything on parapsychology, but hey, it's convenient to the story.) It was also ideally located; Kansas State was in the city of Manhattan (not to be confused with the one in New York City), which was just a short ride from Lawrence.

When the letters arrived from Kansas State, Oliver and I were eating breakfast before school. Sam had gone to get the mail, and had come back with this ridiculous grin on his face. Dad shook his head and raised an eyebrow.

"What's up with you?" he asked. Sammy said nothing, but instead handed Oliver and I our respective letters. I took mine and just stared at it. I didn't want to open it; I was way too nervous. Dad placed the paper on the table and started watching me incredulously. "Aren't you gonna open it?" he wanted to know. I shook my head quickly.

"Oliver, you should go first." I suggested.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Because I said so."

"Okay. Works for me." he laughed. He picked up the envelope and tore it open, taking out the letter. Oliver unfolded it and scanned the first line.

"Well?" I prompted. He cleared his throat with a grin.

"'Dear Oliver, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Kansas State University'…" He didn't get to finish, because I was out of my seat a second later and smothering him in a hug. "Now it's your turn." he told me. I sighed.

"Do I _really_ have to?"

"Yes." Oliver, Sammy, and Dad said at the same time. I held my hands up in mock-defense.

"All right, _all right_," I replied. I ripped my envelope open with shaking hands and extracted the letter that would determine my future. I unfolded it with my eyes closed, and then silently counted to three before glancing at the top line.

Dear Alyxandria, we are…

Oh my God…Oh my God…

…pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Kansas State University.

Seriously? Did I read that right? I actually got _accepted_? For once, my luck wasn't screwed to hell and things worked out like I wanted them to?

Sam misread my confused/shocked state. "Oh, Ally, I'm sorry…" he began.

"No," I said, a smile spreading on my face, "I got in!"

My uncle, being the big geek he was, pulled the letter from my hands and read it, then gave me a bone-crushing hug. Once he released me, he re-read the letter, and the second letter that was attached that I hadn't noticed.

"It gets better," he declared. "It says here that you received a scholarship that's going to pay for your first two years."

Really, this was happening to _me_? It was a little hard to believe, but hell, I didn't mind getting some aid, too.

"I'm proud of you, kiddo." Dad said, giving me a hug.

This was awesome. Oliver and I could graduate, go to school together, get our own place…it was perfect.

"So, this is where you two want to go, then?" Dad asked. He looked at me. "You want to leave me and your uncle and do the whole college thing; be on your own?"

I rolled my eyes. He wasn't going to take the separation too well, I knew. Especially since Sam had left him to go to college at one point. I had an idea that this issue would come up sooner or later. "Yeah, Dad," I said. "But don't worry, Kansas State isn't that far away. We can visit."

He nodded. "I know," He looked at Oliver. "You're gonna watch out for her as long as you two are out there on your own?"

"Yes, sir. Of course."

Dad ruffled my hair, grinning. "All right." he agreed. He knew Oliver could be trusted; that he could take good care of me. "I'm proud of you, Alyx." he repeated.

"Thanks, Dad."

A/N: Just a bit of a filler chapter, to explain things and such. I promise there will be more action in the next chapter, although I don't know when I'll update because of school and everything.

Please review! Your comments are appreciated!


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing, as per usual…**

**A/N: Thank you to the reviewers and readers! **

Lawrence High School had been unusually quiet for the past several weeks. And as in "quiet", I mean totally free from any sort of paranormal activity. Which was strange, considering it had been a little hectic the first couple of months, what with a demonic virus, my uncle being possessed, a bizarre murder, and the fact that we had found out that our school grounds had once been used for cult practices. Not to mention that Oliver, Amy and I had also been tracked down by Hell Hounds, which we think were sent by Lucien Van Holt, the guy who's in charge of the Satan worshipping group, the Devil's Army. And, oh yeah, he has demonic powers that were supposedly given to him through a deal he made with an upper-level demon. The worst part is, he's back for some kind of revenge, only we don't know why…

That about sums up my senior year so far. Crazy, don't you think? Everything's going haywire on the supernatural spectrum of it, but on the other hand, I got into a college and my grades are improving ever so slightly, which Sam is happy about.

It was near Saint Patrick's Day when things started picking up again. Amy and I were in our math class, copying down notes and such, every so often turning around to talk to each other when the teacher wasn't looking. We now made a point to sit next to each other; we had become better friends through our weird experiences with the paranormal, and found that we also had things in common besides that.

Halfway through the class, when we were finished writing down notes, the teacher announced that she needed to leave to pick up our worksheets that she had printed off for the night's homework. As soon as she left, the entire class started talking to their friends. However, as I turned to talk to Amy, all of the windows in the classroom flew open, letting in a strong, chilly wind that suddenly startled everyone and sent papers swirling everywhere. All of the students were dead silent, giving each other confused and freaked out glances. Amy and I looked at one another, horrified.

"What's going on?" Amy asked over the wind that was howling through the windows.

"I don't know," I replied, shivering from the frigid air, "but it can't be good!"

We sat, watching as the fluorescent lights on the ceiling began to flicker all at once, and a dull roar of frightened conversation was heard among the wind and flying papers. Suddenly, we saw words appearing on the chalkboard that weren't there a second ago, but were nonetheless written in chalk in an angry script.

The message, "You Will Fear Evil" was written there, in neat columns across the board, like it had been copied by a student who had been punished.

Why did I get the distinct feeling that it was directed at Amy and me? And where had I heard a similar message before? I thought about it for a moment, and remembered. "You Will Fear Evil" was the opposite of "I Will Fear No Evil", which is what the Latin translates to in the inscription on the Colt.

Yep, it was_ definitely _aimed at us.

_Great._

"Make it stop!" someone shouted. I rolled my eyes. At this point, the preppy girls in my class were cowering with their hands over their ears. Some of the guys had gotten up from their seats and were making an attempt to shut the windows, but the combination of the seemingly tornado-force winds and the strong, unseen hold on them made it nearly impossible. Over the racket, we heard the teacher pounding on the door, trying to get in. I got up from my seat and pushed through the crowd of students who were congregated in the center of the room looking bewildered, Amy following behind.

The teacher was beating her fists on the door, and making an effort to turn the handle, but with no avail. I saw that the door had been locked, probably by the unknown entity that had suddenly taken the room hostage. Amy tried to undo the lock, but it wouldn't budge. I figured it wouldn't work, because that's just how my luck is, unfortunately.

"What do we do?" Amy asked, glancing back at the students in our class. Two of the guys had started arguing over something and were now pushing each other around. A couple of the girls were freaking out and yelling at one another, trying to come up with a plan to get the hell out of here. This wasn't going to help our situation at all.

I turned to Amy. "Whatever is doing this is feeding off our negative energy, and making us all get angry at each other," I explained. "We need to get things under control or we're never going to get out of here. Tell her," I pointed to the door, referring to our teacher, "to get help; preferably my uncle, okay?" Amy nodded and I brushed past some bickering students. Sighing, I stood up on a desk; public speaking wasn't my thing--I was always known as a loner and an outcast, so I wasn't used to talking to other kids in my grade--but I had to take charge, since I was the only one who knew what was really going on.

As usual.

"Excuse me!" I hollered, commanding the attention of my sixth period math class, "Everybody listen up!"

Most of my peers glanced upward and remained quiet, however, the two boys who had been arguing were on the verge of fist fighting. They had been shoving each other for the past five minutes and calling each other names.

"Hey!" I called to them, annoyed. "Will you two get a hold of yourselves?"

One of the guys, a jock, sniggered. "Who the hell are _you_ to tell us what we should do?" he asked sarcastically. "_Reject_." he added as an afterthought. Some of his other jock-type friends laughed right along with him.

I _so_ did not have time for this. The room was still in absolute chaos, and we were locked in. I had no clue as to what this dark entity had up its sleeve for us next, and I didn't want to stick around to find out.

"_Cute_," I replied cynically to his insult. "Real cute. But you know what? I don't see anyone else here trying to take charge. So, right now, I'd shut up if I were you. Got it?"

The jock tried to advance on me, most likely to start a fight, but the guy whom he'd been arguing with--a fellow 'reject' as we were so unfortunately labeled--held him back.

"Dude, let it go. She's just trying to help." The loner told him, grabbing onto the jock to restrain him.

"Thank you," I said sweetly. "Now, listen. Everyone needs to just calm down, all right? If you panic, and argue and fight, it's only going to make this worse. We have to work _together_ to get out of here before something…_else _happens."

"But the door's locked." A girl pointed out.

"I know," I answered. "So we have to find a way to break the lock; something heavy that we can ram against the door." We all glanced around to locate something useful.

"How about the bookshelf?" Amy suggested. I nodded.

"Sounds good," I agreed. There was a smaller bookshelf that we could take the books out of, lift up, and break the lock. "Start pushing the books off the shelves as quick as you can!" I ordered. A small group of students immediately went to work, throwing the books onto the floor. Once they were all out, I told them to hold off for a second. I ran back to the door, since the pounding and shouts had erupted again. I recognized Sammy's voice, and my math teacher's as well.

"Uncle Sammy!" I yelled. "We can't get out! We're going to try to break the lock or knock down the door, so I'd suggest that you move!" As soon as I heard his affirmative reply, I walked across the classroom, and told them to go for it. Six students volunteered to lift the bookshelf and slam it into the door. We had a better chance of knocking it off its hinges, since the doors were extremely old. The first hit loosened it somewhat. As they were hitting the door a second time, Amy quickly tugged on my sleeve, concerned. She pointed to something in the corner.

A dark, wispy cloud of black smoke was floating in the air in the corner by the windows. I didn't want to know what it was, but I knew it wasn't good. I could tell this because it was forming itself into a silhouette of a man--something a demon could sometimes do when out of a host body. It kind of looked like the thing that had killed the janitor in my premonition…

"Hurry up!" I shouted. A moment later, the door broke down, slamming to the floor in the hallway with a massive thud. Sam and our math teacher stood next to the classroom a little farther down the hall, looking baffled. The students filed out rather quickly; I was the last to leave, just in time to see the shadowy figure disappear and the classroom return to order.

"What happened?" Mr. Williams asked loudly, approaching the group of us in the hallway, disconcerted and looking as if he'd just ran five miles.

"I…I don't know," the math teacher replied anxiously. She was the most jumpy, paranoid person I had ever seen. "I left for a few minutes and…" She trailed off. "I went to your office to get you to come up here but you weren't there so I got Mr. Winchester."

Mr. Williams went into the classroom, took a quick look around, then addressed the students. "I will do my best to figure out what went on here, but in the meantime, I suggest that you all get back to class. The bell is going to ring any minute anyhow," There was an uproar of protest from the students, to which he responded by holding up his hands to silence them. "I assure you all that there is nothing seriously the matter here. Everything is under control; you are all perfectly safe. It's best that we continue with our day as normal."

The kids in my class reluctantly returned to the room to gather their belongings as Mr. Williams hung around to talk with our math teacher and survey the damage. I approached Sam, pissed off.

"What _really _happened?" Sam asked, whispering.

"To be honest, I'm not sure. It was this dark, shadowy being. Maybe a demon," I answered. "But this guy," I pointed to Mr. Williams discreetly, "is full of crap. He _doesn't_ have _anything_ under control. We're _not_ safe, Sam. That thing--whatever it was--could've killed someone."

"I know," he agreed. "Listen, I'll call Bobby and see if he can find out more about this Lucien Van Holt." I nodded.

"Miss Winchester," Mr. Williams called. "Before you go back to class, could I see you in my office?"

"Do have a choice?" I muttered under my breath. Sam nudged me, clearing his throat. "Sure, Mr. Williams." I said to my principal, every word dripping with mock-politeness.

I grabbed my stuff and followed the guy to his office, taking a seat in a chair across from his desk as he stopped in the hall to have a chat with the librarian about getting new printers for the library or whatever. I scanned the room, taking time to silently make fun of how freaking neat and orderly his desk was for a dude. But that's not all that caught my attention. I saw my personal file on his desk, opened, like he'd been looking through it very recently. Curious, I leaned over far enough to see what it contained. He was still chatting it up with the librarian, so I figured it would buy me a few minutes.

I saw my transcripts of my grades and all that academic stuff, which I wasn't interested in. I noticed that Miss Miller's--the school psychologist--notes from my sessions from last year and this year were in there. Was that…_legal_ for him to be reading that? I thought it was confidential. I mean, it had my personal and private feelings and thoughts written down on those pieces of paper. Casting a quick peek at the door, I saw that I was still good on time. I got out of my chair and walked around the desk, where I noticed that Mr. Williams had Oliver's file out as well. He had some notes of his own jotted down on a notepad--notes about _us_. Confused, I took my original seat just as he entered the room. I watched as he closed the files and tucked them away casually.

He folded his hands and looked at me, while I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, wondering why he'd opened his own little investigation on Oliver and I. "Miss Winchester," he said, "I was told that you were the one who took leadership in the math classroom. I want you to tell me what happened in there."

I swallowed hard. "Uh, well, the teacher left, and somehow the lock on the door was stuck and we couldn't let her in."

"And the need to get the door open was so great that you had to knock it down?" he asked. "You couldn't just get someone with a key to unlock it?"

Like we had time…

"Umm…"

"Seems to me that the students were panicked for a reason," Mr. Williams replied. "And what would you make of the writing on the board?"

I sighed. Obviously, it was time for me to explain things to him, since he was completely clueless about the paranormal insanity that was taking place in his own school.

"Mr. Williams," I began, trying my best to remain patient, "I know this is going to sound crazy but I don't have time for the whole 'The Truth is Out There' spiel." I paused for a moment. "The school is under attack by the supernatural. That's the reason for all the weird crap that's been happening this year. There was some kind of…negative entity in that classroom today. It could've hurt someone." I told him. "If you don't do something, the students here could start getting killed."

He stared at me like I was psychotic. "That is the most _ridiculous_ thing I've ever heard."

"Ridiculous, but true. I swear. I don't know if you are aware of this, but the school was built on the grounds that were used by a cult years ago. They built right over the underground chambers; their still here--there's a door leading to them in the basement. The leader of the cult is back--"

Mr. Williams cut me off. "Miss Winchester." he warned, annoyed. I stood up, placing my hands on his desk, leaning in like I meant business. Which I did.

"The leader is _back _and he's out for revenge," I said mildly. "Your students are in danger. They could start _dying_ if you don't get your act together now and do something about it."

"And what do you suppose _I _can do about it? I'm not saying that any of this is true, but I can't very well close the school and wait for these…_entities_ to leave, now can I? As for the school being built over some place that was used by occultists, that is absolutely absurd. I can assure you that it is _not_ true."

"There's a door in the basement of the school with an inverted pentagram. I saw it!" I shouted.

He gave me a skeptical glance, like he was wondering when I had been down in the basement, but he didn't question it. "It's probably graffiti from years ago."

"But it--"

He cut me off again. "That's enough from you, Miss Winchester," he said. "I'd like you to return to class. If I hear you talking about all of this supernatural nonsense again, I'll be forced to give you detention for the rest of the year."

"Whatever," I muttered angrily, picking up my things and storming out of the room. "Asshole." I swore when I was out of earshot.

Mr. Williams was choosing not to listen to me, and if something else happened, it wouldn't be my fault. I warned him. Van Holt wasn't going to give up until he got whatever he wanted for revenge. Things were just starting to heat up again. He wasn't finished--not by a long shot.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own a thing...much to my displeasure. Oh well...**

"That's crazy," Oliver was saying the next day as I told him about how I had discovered that Mr. Williams had been looking through our files. We were getting our supplies and things for our classes; Oliver had lunch this period, and I had a study hall, unlike other days when we had the same lunch period. "I don't think he has the right to do that sort of thing--I mean, look at the psychologists' notes about you. I think you should report his ass."

"To who? Besides, we're not on the greatest terms, as you probably might've noticed. I can't tell someone I know this because I was looking through his personal stuff."

"True," Oliver agreed. He then switched to another topic. "Did Sam say if Bobby found out anything more on Van Holt?"

"Yeah, he said Bobby and Ellen e-mailed me something." I replied. He laughed.

"Bobby _and_ Ellen?" he asked. "What, are they a couple now?"

"I should hope not," I laughed. "Ellen's my grandmother, and Bobby's like my grandfather, so it would be awkward."

"It's not like they're blood-related or anything, though. It would be fine. Awkward maybe, but fine."

"Yeah, well, I don't think they're an item as of yet," I answered. "But Ellen moved in with him. I think it's good for Bobby, since he's usually alone." Oliver nodded. I glanced at the clock in the hallway. "Gotta go. The study hall proctor gets pissed when I'm late."

I made it into the study hall just as the bell rang, which rarely happens. I'm usually late by a half-minute or so because I stop and talk to Oliver instead of walking to my class after getting my stuff. I asked for a pass to the library, and the proctor handed it to me with a dirty look. I walked across the hall and into the library, handing the pass to the librarian as I went to the back of the room to a computer. The first thing I did was check my e-mail; as Sam had said, there was a message from Bobby.

Alyx,

Ellen found this article on a website. It gives some history on Lucien Van Holt. Not much, but it has a picture.

Bobby

P.S--Ellen says hi.

I clicked on the link below Bobby's message, and it brought me to the small article, which was like a paragraph under a large picture of Lucien Van Holt. He was a thin, gray-haired man with a stern face and high cheekbones, and dark, opaque eyes that were cold and filled with a deep rage. His expression was so emotionless that it was creepy. In the picture, he was wearing all black; the defining feature was an inverted pentagram tattooed on his right hand, near the knuckle of his middle finger. What a lovely spot for it…

The article read:

Lucien Van Holt (1919-????) This seemingly average, middle-class man was born and raised in Savannah, Georgia, but moved to Lawrence, Kansas soon after he married his high school sweetheart, Madeline Johnson. He and Madeline had two children; soon after their youngest was born, Madeline divorced Lucien and gained full custody of their children, since Van Holt was declared an alcoholic and was unstable to take care of the kids. There were also rumors of domestic violence involved. Long after his divorce from his wife, in the mid-sixties, it is said that he lead an occultist group called The Devil's Army. The Devil's Army was suspected to be the cause of a series of disappearances and potential murders of young women, but those involved were never caught or convicted. Van Holt and his followers went into hiding and today it is not known if he is still alive.

Van Holt seemed like a _pleasant_ man…not.

I was just about to click out of the website when the computer froze. Frustrated, I tried to exit out of the internet and fix it anyway I knew possible. I thought I was in the clear when the internet browser closed, but for no apparent reason, the word processing program opened itself up. I attempted to click out of that but now it was frozen yet again. I moved the mouse, but oddly, the cursor wouldn't move.

Suddenly, words appeared on the page, even though I wasn't typing anything at all. I looked around to see if anyone else's computer was freaking out--maybe it was a virus or some idiot kid hacking into the system--but mine was the only one doing this. I watched as the letters being typed went from being complete gibberish to forming a message that was addressed to _me_.

I KNOW WHAT YOU FEAR MOST.

Okay, that was more than a little creepy. It got worse, though.

I HAVE YOUR FATHER. I KILLED HIM, ALYX.

My jaw dropped out of horror. Was this message from Van Holt? That was my guess, but I didn't believe what he was saying was true. Out of nowhere, I felt a shooting pain my head that I immediately recognized as a premonition. The pain was so blinding that I doubled over, putting pressure on my temples with my fingers to try to relieve it. I saw a small snippet of something in this vision. I saw the basement of the school, and was able to discern a blade gleaming with blood that was lying on the floor. It seemed to be the same knife I had seen the janitor murdered with. A few feet from that knife, in the shadows, I saw a body lying on the ground--a body that, with much dread, I distinguished as my father's.

I got to my feet and bolted out of the room, ignoring the librarian's shouts for me to get a pass. That didn't matter; I didn't care. I needed to get to the basement ASAP.

**Oliver's POV**

I was on my way to the cafeteria, following behind a bunch of rowdy students in all different grades who were all headed to lunch. I wasn't really paying attention much at first, but somehow, over the noise, I heard someone calling my name. It was faint, and barely recognizable, but I heard it. Curious, I decided to see where the voice--a male's that I swear I had heard before--was coming from. Abandoning lunch altogether, I started down the hall where the abandoned corridor was located; the hallway where none of the classrooms were used anymore. The lights above me flickered slightly as I stepped into the deserted hall, the only sound coming from my shoes hitting the tiled floor. At the very end of the hall, a man stood with his back turned to me. He looked _extremely_ familiar.

I paused in the middle of the corridor, just as he turned around. That's when I knew that I had definitely seen this guy before. Although, it wasn't much of person; rather, it was a thing. An evil, vicious _thing _that I had buried along with my past last year and hoped to forget about. Now, it was standing across from me, grinning, even though this wasn't at all possible. It was supposed to be dead; killed by the very last bullet from the infamous Colt gun.

"Hello, Oliver." My father said in that cruel, mocking, gravely voice that I had come to fear. The host body he was using was the same one he had died in. His skin was ashen, and the fatal bullet hole was noticeable on his chest; the shirt ripped and bloody around the wound.

"_Why_ are you here? You're supposed to be--"

"Dead? Yeah, I get that. But you know what they say, son. Your past always comes back to haunt you." he laughed, taking a few steps forward.

"We _killed _you." I said sternly. I still didn't get how this was possible. Did I fall and hit my head or something? Had I fallen asleep in a class without knowing it, and this was all just some horrible nightmare?

"That's right. You did. You and your new _hunting_ buddies and that precious girlfriend of yours finally got the better of me," He pointed to himself. "_I_ got betrayed," he said in mock laughter, "by my own son!"

"I never wanted to be on your side," I answered. "I wanted you gone just as much as the rest of them did."

"That's not really true. You feel it somewhere deep down…that power, that _anger_, still waiting to be set free. You've got demon blood--_my_ blood--in you no matter what. It's part of who you are; we're connected, you and I. You can't change that. There's no way to ignore it, boy. I told you before, just embrace it--"

"No," I said through gritted teeth. "I don't know how or why you're here, but you need to get the hell away from me."

He did just the opposite. He came charging toward me, his yellow eyes flashing wildly with hatred. He looked like he was set on ripping me apart…

Alyx's POV

I staggered down the stairs to the basement, my legs wobbly from sheer dread. As much as I didn't want to venture down there, I knew there wasn't any other options if I wanted to find out the truth. I reached the bottom, where I discovered a flashlight left behind by the custodial staff. Seeing as I wouldn't be able to locate a light switch, I picked it up and turned it on, using the beam of light to guide my way. Everything was mostly silent around me, except for a faint dripping sound and my sneakers clattering on the floor…and oh yeah, my own heavy, terrified breathing. I walked on slowly, deeper into the gloomy basement, my heart racing faster with each passing step.

I saw the knife first, in the exact spot where it had been in my vision. I approached it, shining the flashlight on it. I crouched down and picked it up, swallowing hard once I noticed the blood. Setting the knife back down, I got my feet gradually, and moved on, now following a trail of dark, liquid-y, crimson spots on the floor. I stopped in my tracks once the beam of light fell on a body that--much to my utter horror--was, in fact, my father's. He was lying motionless on the cold, cement ground, still in his grease and oil covered work clothes. Abducted while at work by Van Holt and his buddies, I guessed. I gasped aloud, the flashlight slipping from my fingers and slamming to the floor, shutting off.

"Dad," I breathed urgently, feeling the sting of tears in the corners of my eyes. After a moment's reluctance, I grabbed the flashlight again and dashed to his side, dropping to my knees. I flicked on the flashlight to survey the damage, wincing at the state he was in. He was very pale; I couldn't see whether his chest was rising or falling, which worried me a lot. He had a gash on his forehead, and another on one of his arms and legs, as well as several stab wounds to his torso. I grimaced at the amount of blood he had lost, the tears steadily making their way down my face.

This couldn't be right. He couldn't be dead…he just…_couldn't_ be.

Bending over him, I placed my hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly, careful not to hurt him. "Oh, God…Dad," I called, my voice shaking and my vision blurring from the tears. I wiped them away furiously and leaned over to check his pulse. I didn't feel anything when I placed my fingers on his neck, so, desperately, I checked his wrist. Still, nothing. Stifling a sob, I laid my head down on his chest--not caring about the blood covering his clothes-- to see if I could feel or hear his heartbeat.

Nothing. Absolutely _nothing_. But, being the stubborn person that I was, I _refused _to stop. I couldn't give up on him. Not yet. He had helped me and rescued me countless times throughout my life no matter the circumstances; it was my turn to return the favor. I wasn't going to let Van Holt win.

"No," I cried. "No, Dad, please…" I wiped away more tears and knelt back down again, putting my hands on the wound that I thought was the deepest, determined to heal him. I calmed myself down as much as I possibly could, and concentrated on repairing the injury. Two, almost three minutes passed, and nothing happened. Angered, I slammed my hand into the floor and bent over him again, this time shaking him roughly. "Come, on, Dad…You can't leave me. Not now--not like this. You're strong; I _know_ you can pull through…" I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, and shook him once more. "_Please_, don't leave me." I ordered, infuriated.

He didn't move. Not even a little bit. I had expected him to. I had anticipated him waking up; finding the strength within himself--the same strength I had in me--to hold on long enough to get help. But this? This eerie, awful silence was something that made my heart shatter into pieces. Dean Winchester--my hero, my role model, my mentor, my _father_--was _dead_. The greatest hunter, I was convinced, that I had ever known, was gone. And there was nothing I could do to bring him back. The feeling of immense, indescribable sadness and grief washed over me, hitting me like a ton of bricks. There was anger as well; I was mad--_livid_, even--at him for leaving me. Why hadn't he stopped this? Why didn't he defend himself? How could he do this?! I couldn't believe what had happened. The reality of it hadn't fully set in yet, and I doubt it ever would.

I threw myself over his chest, loud, gut-wrenching sobs wracking my entire body. I had _never_ cried like that before in my entire life. Now I knew what it truly felt like to want revenge for something…

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: Sorry for the evil cliffhanger. I felt the need to leave one since I hadn't done it in awhile. I know you all might be a bit confused, but don't worry, everything will be explained in the next chapter, trust me. I know where I'm going with this, for the most part. Anyways, hoped you liked this angst-filled chapter; please review!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: Don't own a thing.**

**A/N: I know you've all been angry and depressed over that last cliffhanger. I apologize...lol **

Alyx didn't know exactly how long she stayed like that in the basement, huddled on the floor weeping until there were no more tears left to shed. It felt like an eternity. She was surprised that no one had wondered where she'd run off to, or had organized a search party, because she was pretty sure that she had missed a class. Not that it mattered much. To her, nothing really mattered now. Hesitantly, she managed to drag herself away from Dean's lifeless body, and take a seat a foot or so from him, with her back leaning against a support beam. She fished her cell phone out of her pocket, thought about calling her uncle or texting Oliver, but in the end, she tossed her phone aside.

Hugging her knees to her chest, Alyx stared at her father, unable to move, speak, or think. It was like loosing Kylie all over again, but ten times worse. Now, she was left orphaned--Sam would take care of her, she knew, but it wouldn't be the _same_. She loved her uncle dearly, but she _needed _her father; Sam couldn't replace him. Dean had been like Alyx's entire world, and suddenly that world had come caving on her, and she didn't know what to do.

Unbeknownst to Alyx, Dean's spirit was standing a few feet behind her, watching as his daughter sat solemnly, tears flooding her vision once more. He was overcome with guilt, even though this hadn't really been his fault in the first place. It had all been an elaborate setup; he had received a call from the school saying that Alyx was sick and needed to be driven home. Dean had come straight from work, only to be knocked out cold as soon as he walked through the doors of the school. He had woken up in the basement, and had gotten attacked by some shadowy figure wielding a knife. Still disoriented from being knocked unconscious, his assailant had gotten the upper hand, leaving him for dead, and as he guessed, leading Alyx right to him a little too late. They'd both been tricked. Dean mentally kicked himself for not being careful; now he was paying for it, and so was Alyx, unfortunately.

"Why hadn't I seen it sooner?" Alyx wondered aloud suddenly. "What's the point of having these visions if I can't save anyone?"

An icy, sharp feeling went up Dean's spine. He remembered when Sam had asked that very same question.

_You can't save everyone_ he had told his younger brother. And it was true. He hated that Alyx was the one feeling guilty for this. It was partly his own damn fault, technically, now that he actually thought about it. Why hadn't he figured it out beforehand? 

"Don't blame yourself, Alyx," Dean found himself saying, despite the fact that she couldn't hear him. There was a chance that she could sense the presence of his spirit, like Sam had done when he'd been hospitalized after the car accident. Only this time, he was honest-to-God dead. There wasn't much she could do about it. "You can't save everyone, you know that."

"I'm so sorry." Alyx continued, wiping at her tears yet again. Dean took a couple steps closer, kneeling down beside her.

"Don't cry, kiddo," Dean said quietly. He was surprising himself by how calm he was taking this. "Please don't cry. It's okay. I know you probably can't hear me, but I want you to know that this _isn't_ your fault. You have nothing to apologize for." Tentatively, Dean placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He was disappointed when she didn't acknowledge him at all; he had expected her to at least _sense_ something. That way she'd have some closure…or whatever.

Suddenly, Alyx's head whipped around upon hearing a noise coming from deep inside the large room. Panicking--she thought it could be one of the maintenance people who finally discovered her--Alyx jumped to her feet. The soft footfalls stopped, and a low, sinister laugh resonated from somewhere in the darkness. She scanned the room in search of the person, her heart rate increasing again. Her gaze fell on a silhouette of a man standing in the shadows; she could only see his outline, but it was enough for her to presume that she was in the presence of Van Holt himself.

Dean, on the other hand, _knew_ it was Van Holt, the guy who had wasted him.

"Watch out, Alyx," he said out loud, forgetting that he was just a spirit, unable to directly communicate with her. "This guy's a sick son of a bitch."

"I warned you," the man said in a raspy voice. "You didn't think I was serious, but I gave you fair warning, Alyxandria. The words written on that blackboard were indeed meant for you."

"Why did you do this to him?" Alyx shouted furiously.

"I _warned _you and your friends to stop that little investigation…" he said. "But you _didn't_, did you?"

"People deserve to know the truth about what you and your psychopathic buddies did to those girls," she stated icily. "And you deserve to be put behind bars for the rest of your miserable, meaningless life, you sick son of a bitch."

Dean couldn't help but laugh, realizing how much she actually sounded like him, and how well she was standing her ground.

Van Holt chuckled. "You're the one who paid the price, Alyxandria. You _had _to go traipsing around in _my_ business. And for that, I took something of yours. Someone that's of very special importance to you," he answered. "I knew it was your greatest _fear_."

"Fear?" Dean asked. "Alyx, what the hell is he talking about?"

"Look, I don't care about your crusade for revenge, or the fact that you're pissed at me," she said, her voice quavering again. "I want you to bring him _back_."

Dean approached her rapidly, coming up behind her. "No," he stated firmly, once again ignoring the fact that he wasn't in the land of the living anymore. "No, you're not…Alyxandria, I swear, do _not_ do anything stupid."

"Ah, you're looking to make a deal, then?" he asked, his tone showing interest.

"I _don't_ make deals with demons." Alyx told him. As far as she was concerned, he was a demon.

Dean smirked. He had taught her well…or so he hoped. "That's right," he said. "Now hightail it out of here and _let it go_. There's nothing you can do, Ally."

"I don't see you having many other options, here, Alyxandria," he replied. "You _do_ want him back, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Alyx said. "I won't make you a _deal_, but if you're willing to…_bargain_--"

"Absolutely not. Just…_no_. Remember what I said about deals? Yeah, same goes for bargaining. Forget about it, Alyx. I know you're angry and upset but I don't want you doing anything stupid," Dean said. "If you bargain with this guy, I will ground your ass until you are my age, you got that? I'm serious. _Don't do it_."

"Anything for you, my dear," he said in reply to Alyx's request. "Just lay down your terms."

Alyx heaved a sigh, not believing that she was actually going through with this…

Oliver's POV

My father was coming toward me, reading to lunge and tear me to pieces. However, as he was just about to react, I made the first move, plowing my fist into his face. Only, my hand went right through him. Seconds later, his form crumbled into a pile of ash that quickly dissolved into the floor. Stunned, I gawked at the spot where he had been standing.

It hadn't been real. _He_ hadn't been real. It was some twisted trick. But _why_?

I didn't really have the answer to that one. Severely confused, I went to head back to class, since the period had ended. As I walked out of the hallway, I got this weird feeling of dread, like something was wrong. It was the same feeling I had gotten last year when Alyx was being attacked by that ghost-demon creature. Concentrating, I could suddenly sense a malevolent, demonic energy somewhere in the school. Wherever that negative energy was coming from, I had an idea that Alyx would be right there with it. And the only place that came to mind immediately was the basement.

Quickly, I took off running, pushing my way through the students who were crowding the halls because of the change of classes. I practically jumped down flights of stairs to get the basement as fast as I could manage. I was walking down the stairs when I heard the low, gruff voice of a man speaking.

"Anything for you, my dear," he was saying. Somehow, I got the impression that he was talking to Alyx. And whatever it was, it didn't sound good. "Just lay down your terms."

Spotting Alyx, I started to approach her swiftly. The gruff voice belonged to a man who was standing in the dark, keeping himself hidden. I noticed Alyx was located a few feet from her father's motionless body.

What had happened? What did I miss?

General POV

"Alyx," Oliver said loudly, "What the hell's going on?"

"I _knew_ you were a good kid," Dean said. "Now, go talk some sense into my daughter, would ya?"

Oliver couldn't hear or see him either. He took a few steps closer to his girlfriend, but a moment later a burst of unknown energy knocked him clean off his feet, sending him flying backward.

"Stay away from her, boy," Van Holt warned. Oliver was unaware of this, but Van Holt had distracted him with that encounter with his father for a reason; to keep him away from Alyx long enough for her to make a compromise. It hadn't worked as well as he had hoped. "Can't ya see we're in the middle of business?"

Oliver recovered, picking himself up off the floor with a groan. "Business? Alyx, what sort of business could you have with _him_?" he asked.

Alyx turned around. "He's Lucien Van Holt," she stated. "He killed my dad, and he's the only one who can bring him back."

"So that's why you're doing this?" Oliver asked, a hint of anger lacing his words. "To make a deal?"

"No, I'm _bargaining_." she said firmly.

"Same thing." Oliver shot back.

"Thank you!" Dean yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. "Don't let her do it, Oliver."

As if he had read Dean's mind, Oliver covered the distance between himself and Alyx, seizing her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. "Please don't do this," he pleaded. "I don't think this is what your father would've wanted. I know it's hard to accept but maybe…maybe it was just his time to go."

Looking at him horrified, Alyx shoved him to the ground with all her strength. Van Holt laughed out of satisfaction, and kept Oliver pinned to the floor using his demonic abilities.

"Your terms, Miss Winchester." Van Holt encouraged. Alyx took a reluctant step forward.

"You have to promise to bring him back completely unharmed."

"You've got my word," Van Holt replied. "And what would I get in return?"

"Alyx, stop." Oliver demanded.

"I…I have an ability to inflict injuries with my mind--a demonic ability. You can take it from me." she offered.

Van Holt thought this over, while Oliver and Dean watched, terrified. What was she doing giving that sort of ability to him? It would only make the guy more of a threat.

"Sounds like a good bargain to me." Van Holt said finally. It was just the deal he had been waiting for; to have _that_ power as his own. From the darkness, he outstretched a calloused, gnarled hand for Alyx to shake to seal the deal. It _was_ a deal, no matter how much Alyx denied that it was. Cautiously, she shook his hand, and he withdrew it quickly afterwards. Neither Oliver nor Dean said anything. They couldn't believe what she had done. Moments later, Alyx felt an intense, piercing pain shooting through her head, much like when she had a premonition, only it was a bit worse. Grimacing, she dropped to her knees as her ability was taken from her and given to the one man they were trying to destroy.

Meanwhile, Dean felt himself fading away, being pulled back toward his body. Van Holt disappeared, and as he did so, the hold on Oliver vanished and the pain in Alyx's head subsided. Darkness surrounded Dean for a minute, then he came to, finding himself lying on the cold floor, staring up at the ceiling. There was blood covering his clothes, but he no longer felt any pain, and the wounds had disappeared, as if they hadn't even been there to begin with.

As soon as Alyx heard her father's sharp intake of breath, she hurried to his side, watching him sit up. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, fresh tears streaming down her face. Dean hugged her back, still with an immense feeling of guilt eating him up inside. He remembered everything; he knew what she had done to save him. Part of him was mad at her, but he wasn't willing to pick a fight or yell right now. It wasn't the time nor place for it.

Dean got to his feet, noticing the hostile looks Oliver and Alyx were giving each other. He hoped this wouldn't cause too much of a rift in their relationship. After all, Oliver had been angry at Alyx as well.

"Come on, kiddo," he said, slightly saddened, placing an arm over her shoulders. "Let's go." He thought it was best for Alyx to go home, so she signed herself out in the office with the excuse that she was sick. Oliver stayed behind, understanding that Dean would most likely want to talk to her.

The ride home was silent and extremely tense. Alyx was dreading the inevitable conversation, knowing that her father would question her about what had happened. She was unaware that he had witnessed it all. Once Dean pulled into the driveway, he shut off the car and stayed put, with the doors locked. Alyx could tell by his expression that this chat was going to come sooner rather than later.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything 'cept for my own characters, which I proudly made up myself.**

Complete silence filled the car once again when Dad shut off the engine. He stared out the side window for a moment as if deep in thought, then turned to face me. As far as I could tell, the look in his eyes was one of guilt. It also seemed like he knew something that I didn't. And being a person who could most of the time read peoples' emotions just by one look into their eyes, I knew I was probably right.

I shifted in my seat uncomfortably. I never did like long, awkward silences. Especially between me and Dad. The solemn stare he was giving me--like he was trying to think of what to say--mixed with all the thoughts and memories of what had happened earlier was almost enough to make me start bawling all over again, which I had no desire to do.

"You didn't have to do that for me." Dad said abruptly. I blinked, confused.

"Pardon?"

"That _deal _with that son of a bitch Van Holt," he clarified in an angry tone. "You shouldn't have done it."

"How did you…?"

"I was there," he explained. "I saw all of it."

That was a bit…_unexpected_. Dad's spirit had been there the entire time? I was in a lot of trouble, then.

"Dad, I--"

"No," he replied, "You should've listened to Oliver. I told you to never mess around with that deal-making stuff, Alyx, and you--"

It was my turn to cut him off. "I couldn't _not _do it, Dad. I couldn't let you…" I didn't finish. I knew that if I did, I'd start crying. He seemed to understand.

"I _was_ dead, Alyx," Dad said. "It should've stayed that way. I already went through that once; it was hard enough the first time. I don't need anyone else sacrificing anything for me."

I resisted the sudden urge to smack him. It was hard, but I managed.

"So that's what this is about? Well, _excuse me _for saving your life," I retorted. "God, it's not like I sold my soul."

"You would've. I know you would've if he had asked."

"In a heartbeat, yeah, I _would_. Ya know why? Because I care about you--because that's what families do for each other. You, of all people should know that. You always told me that family comes first before anything, and in this case it did. I couldn't let you leave us like that, Dad. I value _you_ more than that ability that I gave up." I stated firmly. "It was my choice. You can be pissed at me all you want, I don't care."

Dad stayed quiet for a minute, while I absentmindedly played with the pentagram necklace around my neck. He seemed shocked at my little speech.

"When did you get so…mature?" he joked. Smirking, I shrugged. Dad continued, on a more serious note, "We don't say a word about this to Sam, got it?"

I looked at him as if he was nuts. "I don't think that's--"

"Alyx, please, trust me," Dad said. "He'd kill us both. And another thing…don't stay mad at Oliver. I'd hate for the two of you to end your relationship because of this."

I nodded. "Anything else?"

"I'm not entirely happy that you made this deal," he answered. "Of all things, giving Van Holt that power wasn't…_good_, but at least you didn't have to trade your life for mine."

I nodded again, and Dad unlocked the car. I climbed out, shutting the door with a loud creak. As I was walking toward the front door of the house, Dad called my name. I spun around.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," he said with genuine sincerity. It was out of character for him, since apparently saying a simple 'thanks' or even 'I'm sorry' is something that the Winchester family is incapable of doing most of the time. "For what you did. It takes a lot of guts to do something like that."

"Just returning the favor," I smirked. "You know, for all the times you've saved _my _ass over the years."

Dad laughed, approaching me while stuffing the keys to the Impala into his pocket. "I'm your dad," he stated. "It's my job. I can't expect you to be responsible for saving _me_. It's not really in _your_ job description."

"The hell it's not. I can still watch your back, old man. You're getting rusty anyways." I laughed. He shoved me in the arm playfully.

"Who are you callin' _old man_? I still got it. For your information, _princess_, I'm one of the coolest dads out there."

"Yeah, _yeah_," I said sarcastically. "I know."

Keeping that big of a secret from my uncle was a feat in itself. I wasn't good at lying to my family, and he was good at picking up on dishonesty. So, when he asked me at dinner whether or not I was feeling better, I shrugged and kept my gaze down at my plateful of food. I glanced up just in time to see Oliver shoving his food around on his plate, while shaking his head disapprovingly. I frowned; he was still angry at me for making that deal. I guess I could understand his point of view…sort of. But why couldn't he understand mine? Dad was right. I needed to settle things between us.

After dinner, I walked upstairs to Oliver's room, and stood outside. The door was closed, and he had one of his heavy rock CD's turned up loudly. I knocked, but I don't think he heard me, so I waltzed right in. He was sitting in his beanbag chair, doing homework, which he continued to work on as I went across the room and shut off his music. He stopped what he was doing, tossing the book and notebook aside with a sigh.

"What can I help you with?" he asked sarcastically, getting up from the chair. He stood a few feet away with his arms folded over his chest. I wanted to smack him one, too, but I stopped myself, ignoring his comment.

"Look, I know you're mad at me--"

"Damn straight." he mumbled.

"Oliver--"

"No. Alyx, I told you not to do it. Why couldn't you just listen for once? Instead of being so friggin' stubborn all the time."

"Please, spare me the lecture. I've heard it all already." I shot back.

"I _am_ angry at you," he stated. "but more importantly, I was worried about you. I didn't know what he was going to ask you to give up; I didn't want you doing something stupid then regretting it later."

"I knew what I was doing," I told him. "Why can't you see it from my perspective? You know how much my family means to me. I couldn't just let him go."

"I guess I can't really see it from your point of view. I've never had anyone that close to me that I'd make a deal to save…except, of course, for you." He smirked. I blushed. Oliver approached me, pulling me to him. "I'm sorry." he apologized.

"It's okay," I smiled. "I guess I can't stay mad at you forever. After all, I _do_ need a date for Prom."

Oliver laughed, and kissed the top of my head softly. "Oh, and you were expecting _me_ to take you?" he joked.

"I could always find someone else…" I teased.

"Miss Winchester," Oliver replied. "I'd be honored to take you to Prom."

**A/N: Please review! It makes authors happy! Next chapter: Alyx and Oliver get to go to Prom together...**


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing from Supernatural, unfortunately. That privilege belongs to its creator, Eric Kripke.

Oliver and I spent most of the spring break lounging around the house or going out to various places around Lawrence. Unfortunately, we couldn't take a trip down to Mexico and lie on the beach soaking up the sun in Cancun or wherever else was a spring break hotspot. However, Oliver did promise me that we'd visit the Bahamas or my tropical island of choice once we went to college. So, I couldn't complain.

It was the third last day of the break, and I was sitting on Oliver's lap in an armchair while Dad sat on the couch, remote in hand, flipping through the channels. Sam was in the kitchen making up lesson plans for his classes. For the past few minutes, I had been silently debating how exactly to ask him for the money for a Prom dress. Prom was two weeks away; I had put it off long enough.

But that was the thing. I hadn't even looked for a dress because a) I hadn't really had any free time to go shopping for one and b) Prom was almost called off. The Vice Principal of our school, Mrs. Richardson, suggested its cancellation because of the weird things that had been going on all year. Nevertheless, Mr. Williams--being the _nice_ person that he is--decided to go through with it anyway, since he figured the juniors and seniors would start a riot if they cancelled it. Both Mr. Williams and Mrs. Richardson had agreed to have an extra number of chaperones instead, to be on the safe side. Fortunately, Sammy hadn't been asked to chaperone, which saved me some embarrassment.

I climbed off the chair and approached Dad, leaning over the back of the couch. Upon seeing me hovering, he asked, "Okay, what do you want?"

"Why are you assuming that I'm asking for something?"

"You have a habit of _hovering _whenever you're about to ask me for something, Alyx."

"Well…" I started, biting my bottom lip. "I kind of need money for a dress for Prom."

Dad laughed. "You…wear a _dress_? You feelin' okay, kiddo?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm glad you find it amusing. Please, can I just take one of the fake credit cards?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he answered. I practically jumped for joy; it wasn't often he'd let me use an illegal credit card to but something such as a dress. "Just don't buy anything too…_revealing_."

"All right," I smirked. "I'll be sure to pick out the skankiest dress there."

"I'm serious." Dad said.

"I _know_," I answered. I grabbed Oliver's hand and tugged him off the chair. "Come on. You can help."

"I'm _not_ going dress shopping with you."

"Oh yes you are." I ordered, picking up my car keys. Oliver rolled his eyes and reluctantly followed behind. We drove to a quaint dress shop downtown, where they sold dresses for Prom, bride's maids, and even bridal gowns. It was own by an older woman and her daughter, who greeted us as we walked in. The store wasn't too crowded; only a few younger girls and women searching and trying on gowns.

I started scanning the racks for that _perfect_ Prom dress. You know the type--one that would fit in all the right places and show the appropriate amount of skin without looking too…well, ya know. Oliver trudged behind me, taking a look here and there, all the while giving me the impression that he was severely bored.

There were dresses of all different colors, designs, shapes and styles. Some were ugly, others were cute enough for me to try on. But whenever I'd try it on and then reject it, Oliver would shake his head in annoyance. We'd been rummaging around the store for close to two and a half hours when Oliver discovered one that he liked.

"Hey, Alyx, how 'bout this one?" I turned around to see Oliver holding up a slinky, red, backless and low-cut dress.

Typical.

"Uh-huh _Right_," I said. "In your dreams, maybe."

He looked defeated. "Can't you at _least_ try it on for me?"

"No."

He put it back, disappointed, and we kept looking. After another tedious hour of searching, I'm proud to say that I found the best dress ever. Well, in my personal opinion, anyway. It was a turquoise-ish blue that matched the color of Oliver's eyes. It was strapless, and had intricate, yet very simple clear and dark blue beading along the waist and the top half of the dress. I also purchased a pair of heels to go with it (ones that I could actually walk in without falling flat on my ass, since I hadn't had much practice with maneuvering in any type of footwear that _wasn't_ sneakers or 'biker' boots) as well as a shawl. The dress was absolutely perfect for me; however, I hadn't let Oliver see me in it. I wanted to wait until the night of Prom.

After I had bought everything I needed, Oliver dragged me into a tuxedo shop that was just down the road. I decided it was only fair that he took me along, and therefore I didn't put up much of a protest. Besides, we were out of there in under an hour. The whole time we walked back to the car, Oliver was thanking me profusely for paying for his tux. I told him not to worry about it, obviously, but he wouldn't listen. So, to pay me back, Oliver brought me to a restaurant for dinner; a spur of the moment decision that I didn't mind.

Once we finished dinner, we drove back to the house. When Dad asked how much I had spent, and I told him, I swore he flinched just a little. Nonetheless, he didn't say a word.

The night before Prom--I couldn't believe how quickly time flew, or how excited about it I actually was--I was on the phone with Amy. We were gossiping like two girls who were about to go to their very first dance. She was giving me the details on her dress and telling me for the tenth time about how Zack, the punk dude from our math class, had asked her to Prom. I didn't really care that I had heard the story many times before; I was happy for her. Meanwhile, I was informing her on my own dress and asking for her advice on how to do my hair. The four of us--me, Oliver, Amy, and Zack--had made plans to go out for something to eat after Prom, then crash at Amy's for the night to hang out and watch movies and stuff. It was weird talking this eagerly about something so normal. But I liked it.

Prom came faster than I thought it would. Before I knew it, Oliver and I were driving home from a half-day of school, and I was starting to get myself ready. Oliver and I took turns taking a shower, then went downstairs to grab some lunch. Dad shuffled through the door just as we clearing the plates away.

"Hey." he called, grinning. I ran up to greet him, Oliver walking slowly behind.

"You're home early." I mused.

"Yeah, well, I took the rest of the day off. I couldn't miss seeing you in a dress for once in your life."

"Haha, very funny."

"_What_?" Dad asked, shrugging. "Anyway, I wanted to give you something." Dad began ascending the stairs, and motioned for me to follow. I cast a confused glance in Oliver's direction, but he encouraged me to see what it was. Dad was already upstairs, so when I got to the landing, he was waiting in the doorway of my room with a rectangular, gray velvet box in his hands. He handed the box to me, and I hesitantly opened it. Inside, there was a silver bracelet with a couple of small diamonds laid into the silver.

"It was your mother's," he explained. "She wore it on our wedding day. I thought that maybe you could wear it to Prom."

"It's beautiful…of course I'll wear it," I said, hugging him. "Thank you."

By six-thirty that night, I was standing in front of my mirror with my dress and heels on. I had left my hair down, but it was nicely styled and had a slight wave to it. I had also applied makeup; not too much, but just enough to accentuate my features. I slipped the silver diamond bracelet around my wrist, and the pentagram amulet around my neck. Lastly, I slid the silver ring Oliver had given to me on my finger, and grabbed my shawl and purse.

Dad, Sam and Oliver were waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs as I descended. Sam had a disposable camera in his hand, being the big geek that he was. Dad was shaking his head in shock. Oliver was grinning, looking absolutely gorgeous in that tux of his. I wanted to melt all over again at the mere sight of him. Oliver took hold of my hand as I came down the last step, and kissed it softly like the gentlemen do to their leading ladies in the movies. I admit that I did feel sort of like a princess. With a boyfriend such as Oliver, how could I not? Especially because he kept glancing at me; admiring me. Let me tell you, that's an ego boost. How had I gone from being the class freak and reject to having a handsome, kind--albeit half-demon--boyfriend? That question still boggles my mind.

"Alyx, you look…absolutely _amazing_." Oliver told me. I blushed, as usual. I seem to do that whenever he gives me a compliment. I think the 100 watt smile complete with knee-weakening dimples and his mesmerizing, blue eyes contributed to it as well.

"You're looking pretty dapper yourself, Mr. Devereaux." I smirked.

"Okay, you two lovebirds," Sam announced. "Time for a picture."

Oliver and I simultaneously frowned. Dad ushered us into the living room, where we exchanged corsages and then stood in front of the fire place so my uncle could take pictures. Luckily, his film ran out after picture number twenty-four, so I took the opportunity to start toward the door. Oliver grabbed the keys.

"Be careful." Sam advised.

"We will." I reassured him.

"Oliver, keep an eye on her--" Dad began.

Oliver cut in. "Yes, sir."

"And I know what all you crazy teenagers are up to on Prom night, so make sure to use--" I immediately interrupted. I did _not_ want him to finish that sentence, although I knew an inappropriate comment was going to come from him at some point. 'Cause that's just how my dad is.

"_Dad_!" I hollered, my face turning a deep shade of red. Oliver came to my rescue, also blushing from embarrassment.

"Mr. Winchester," he said. "I can assure you that visiting a motel room is _not_ on the agenda tonight."

"Okay. _Awkward_…let's go," I opened the door, taking Oliver's hand to drag him along. "Bye, I'll call you later!" I yelled once we were halfway down the driveway. We approached the car; our clothes and stuff for Amy's was already in the trunk, so we didn't have to worry about that. Oliver held the passenger door open and helped me in, shutting the door once I was safely inside. He had insisted on driving, probably because he wasn't too confident that I could drive in heels.

With his arm linked around mine, he escorted me into our school's gym, where most of the junior and senior class was already congregated. Yes, we had to have Prom in the gym because our school was too cheap to have it anywhere else. However, they managed to get one of the best local bands to play for us, which was kind of cool. The band was already set up on a makeshift stage on one end of the gym, rocking out while couples danced and strobe lights flashed. Holding hands, Oliver and I pushed our way through the crowd in search of Amy and Zack.

We spotted them sitting on the sidelines, talking; obviously waiting for our arrival. Amy spotted us first, and jumped up excitedly, exclaiming that she loved my dress. Her dress was beautiful also; it was a bright pink, princess-looking gown. Her hair was in an up-do and she was wearing a tiara. Zack had on a black tux with a black dress shirt underneath and a white tie.

The four of us talked for a bit, then once the music slowed down, we went out onto the dance floor to slow-dance along with the other couples. Oliver kept smiling down at me, every so often giving me a small, soft kiss on the lips.

"Having fun?" he asked.

"Yes." I replied.

"Good." Oliver grinned. We danced to the following slow songs, then afterward Amy and I decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up. Taking our purses with us, we exited the gym, giggling about our dates like school girls. While walking to the bathroom, we spotted Brittany and her date making out in the vacant hallway. We rolled our eyes as we entered the bathroom, which was empty except for the two of us.

Amy was beaming like crazy. "Guess what?" she inquired. I encouraged her to continued. "Before you and Oliver got here, Zack asked me out on a date for this weekend!"

"Aww, that's so sweet. He really seems like a nice guy, Amy."

"He is! He's the most adorable guy I've ever met," Amy gushed. "And you…you and Oliver are the cutest couple. You've been going out for over a year now, right?"

I nodded. "It's hard to believe." I smiled, while re-applying some eye shadow. Amy moved up to the sink beside me, and began putting on some lipstick. As we fixed our makeup, both of us could not ignore the flicker of the lights in the bathroom. We stopped at the same time, and shared a terrified glance.

"Maybe it's nothing." Amy stated.

As if on cue, the lights went completely out, enveloping us in darkness.

It was definitely _something_.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize.**

**Oliver's POV**

Standing in the gym beside Zack, we waited for Alyx and Amy to return, making small talk as we hung around. I didn't know Zack very well so it was a bit on the awkward side. As he chatted about different styles of guitars and amps (something that I liked and had knowledge of but wasn't too interested in at the moment), I kept glancing in the direction of the two sets of double-doors--the only entrances and exits of the gym--hoping to spot Alyxandria. Time seemed to tick by so slowly; why did girls have to take _forever _in the bathroom?

I was getting anxious, close to calling her cell when the power suddenly cut off, covering us all in darkness though not completely. The large lights in the parking lot shed their glow through the high windows, letting in wide beams of light. The strobe lights shut off abruptly, and the band onstage looked at one another, confused, trying to figure out why their amps refused to work. The hum of hushed voices began to grow, echoing in the huge room as the students expressed their concern and anger. My eyes darted throughout the gym again, trying to see if Alyx was anywhere within sight.

She wasn't.

My heart rate increased, a heavy feeling of dread filling my chest. "Come on." I told Zack, motioning for him to follow. We walked toward one of the exits; without warning, the doors slammed shut and locked on their own accord, causing anyone in a five-foot radius to stagger backward because of the unseen energy.

"Excuse me! Will everyone keep quiet and pay attention?" the Vice Principal, Mrs. Richardson, shouted, making her way onto the makeshift stage. She was waving her arms in the air frantically, trying to get the students to look up. Mr. Williams, however, wasn't even in the room. "Everyone calm down, all right? There is no need to be alarmed. We've just had some difficulties with the power; I'm sure it's just a blown fuse or something. We're going to try to get it repaired."

"What about the doors?" someone yelled. From my location on the floor, I could see Mrs. Richardson grimace. She ignored the question, and climbed off the stage, waving her hand once more to call the chaperones over.

I knew this wasn't a simple power failure. The doors hadn't been anything normal, either. Van Holt was definitely the one behind this; I had no doubt in my mind about that. It made sense. Prom was the night when he could get at least half the population of the school in a confined area and plan some sort of attack. He also had to have had prior knowledge that Alyx, Amy and I would be in attendance tonight. That's what scared me the most--for the moment, Alyx and I were separated. If something were to happen, I wouldn't be there to save her. And I had made a promise to Alyx's father and uncle to keep an eye on her.

Zack tapped me lightly on the arm. "Dude, what are we gonna do? Ames and Alyx are trapped outside." His voice was worried; by the way he'd called Amy 'Ames' I knew he cared about her well being on some level.

Quickly, I fished my cell from my pocket. "I'll call Alyx," I said to him. "See where they are." I dialed her number rapidly, not even having to think twice about the correct numbers.

"Oliver?" she asked immediately, her tone carrying a bit of urgency but at the same time relieved that I had called. It was good to hear the sound of her voice, to know that she was safe for the time being. "You okay?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," I laughed. "I'm fine, don't worry over me. Where are you and Amy?"

"In the hallway outside of the gym. We were in the bathroom when the power went out. The gym doors are locked, though…what's going on in there?"

"The doors shut and locked by themselves." I explained. She groaned.

"Van Holt." It was a statement, not a question.

"Of course. Would you expect anything less?" I asked sarcastically.

"Why does he have to pull a stunt like this _now_? On the night of _Prom_!" She heaved a sigh. "Nothing's ever easy with us, is it?"

"Unfortunately, no," I agreed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not _your _fault, Oliver." she declared. In some way, I had a feeling that it was. _I_ was the one causing the complications for the two of us more often than not. No matter what happened to us, the fact that I was half-demon and she was a hunter would _always_ be an issue.

"What's the plan?" she questioned, tearing me from my reverie. I thought for a moment.

"Do you still have salt in your locker?"

"Yes."

"Go get it--take Amy with you; don't go alone. Bring it back down here and put it around the gym. As long as everyone's locked in here, they'll be safe with some kind of outside protection."

"What about you?" she inquired.

"I'm going to call your father," I replied. "I'll tell him what's going on, and see if he and Sam can get down here as quickly as possible with weapons."

"Can you get out of the gym?"

"Yeah. I'll be waiting for you and Amy in the hallway."

"Good." I could almost hear the smile in her voice.

I laughed. "Be careful. _Please_."

"You know I will," she answered. Then, she paused briefly. "Love you." she told me. I smirked.

"Love you, too." I said before hanging up. I was about to call Alyx's dad when my phone beeped, indicating that my battery was low. I raised an eyebrow, puzzled, since I'd only just charged it this morning. There was a presence in the gym--probably keeping guard over everyone for Van Holt and making sure no one could call 911 for help--something that was slowly draining the battery from electronics and making the entire room grow colder with each passing minute. (I suddenly noticed this, since the girls had started to shiver.) Rapidly, I called Mr. Winchester, to tell him of our dangerous situation at the school--we'd need backup shortly; I had a bad feeling about that.

**Alyx's POV**

I tucked my phone away in my purse. "Let's go," I said to Amy, who was looking anxiously up and down the almost deserted hallway. (I say almost because Brittany and her date were still there, unaware of the impending peril that we were all in I could hear her giggling in the alcove as she and her boyfriend shared kisses.) Ignoring them, Amy and I walked fast--as fast as our heels would allow--up the stairs to my locker. I twisted the combination lock with expert skill, throwing the door open once it was unlocked. Digging through my belongings, I picked up two containers of salt, passing one over to Amy. I couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu course through me, remembering the night Kylie and I had put salt around her house in the same fashion.

Amy looked at me incredulously. "This stuff _really_ works?"

I grinned. "Yeah."

"I'd read about it online once…salt's supposed to pure; something that comes straight from the earth, right? So--"

"--demons or any other evil creature can't cross it. _Exactly_." I finished, surprised by how much she knew.

We started to walk hurriedly, glancing every which way, alert. Who knew what sort of supernatural menace was waiting around the corner for us? We were coming down the stairs when the entire school shook violently. Amy and I had to grip the railing to keep from falling down and breaking our necks.

"All right, that _can't _be normal!" I hollered, trying to steady my racing heart.

"I'll say." Amy agreed as we safely reached the bottom floor. We meandered down the hallway in the direction of the gym. Oliver wasn't waiting outside like he'd promised; for a fleeting moment I thought something was wrong. I had no time to worry, though, because Amy and I got to work putting the salt lines down. By the time we were finished, we'd used both containers, discarding them in a nearby trash can.

We stood outside one of the sets of doors, peeking down the hall, wondering where on earth my boyfriend was. Finally, I pressed my ear against the door, only hearing frightened and complaining conversations on the other side.

"Oliver?" I called, pounding on the door loudly, hoping that by some miracle he'd be standing in close proximity of it to hear me. "Oliver!"

Unexpectedly, Oliver walked out into the hallway to stand beside me--by way of the wall. He'd just strode right through it like it was nothing. The salt didn't have any effect on him, as far as I could tell. If it did, he didn't say anything anyway. Amy had witnessed this dead-on, too. She gave a terrified shriek, hand clapping over her mouth in shock.

"What…what _are _you? _How_ did you do that?" she wanted to know. Oliver glanced at me.

"It's…_complicated_." I replied. She threw Oliver a weird look.

"I'm half-demon." he said casually. Like it was no big deal. Amy's eyes bulged out in horror, and she tried to make a run for it but I grabbed her forearm gently.

"Amy, it's okay." I reassured her.

"No, Alyx, it's not _okay_. I'm trapped in a school that's been taken over by some psychotic freak who practiced devil worship, and _now_ you decide to tell me that your boyfriend is the spawn of Satan?"

Oliver snickered, approaching me. He placed his arm around my waist, and gave Amy an amused glance. "Now, that's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

"I don't care!" Amy said, mortified, her voice breaking. "You lied to me!"

"We didn't lie, Amy," I said. "We didn't want to tell you because we have to keep it a secret."

"I won't hurt you, I swear." Oliver promised.

"How can I trust you?"

"I'm on _your _side, aren't I?" he countered.

"Point taken." she muttered.

Out of the blue, my cell phone rang. Taking a glimpse at the caller ID, I could see that it was Dad.

"Hey," I said. "You here?"

"Yeah," he answered, sounding frustrated. "but we can't get in."

"What do you mean?"

"Sam and I went around the whole school--every door and every window is locked. We can't even pick the locks. It's like there's some kind of energy barrier surrounding the place." he explained, but I could barely make out what he was saying. My phone was beginning to cut out.

"We'll be right there. I gotta go; my phone's dying." I stated. It finally died after I hung up. I made my way to the front door, Oliver falling into step with me, and Amy keeping her distance from Oliver, still wary. We reached the doors, seeing that Sam and Dad were standing outside, holding guns and other arsenal. Before I could get a plan out of my mouth, Oliver was breaking through the glass with his fist, ignoring the cuts he was receiving from the sharp debris. I wondered why Dad hadn't thought to break through the glass in the first place.

Oliver, being the tallest, helped Dad and Sam get the guns through the broken window. He handed a shotgun full of rock salt over to me, and gave Amy a smaller gun that Dad had informed me was filled with regular bullets. She took it, giving me a skeptical look, but not asking a single question pertaining to it. Oliver received the pistol loaded with silver bullets. Dad said he had no clue as to what we'd actually encounter, so he brought a range of things to be safe.

We told Dad and Sam to go over to the closest bottom level window, and we'd break it to let them in, since we couldn't even get the door open from the inside. The window was in the hall; Oliver used his elbow to break through it this time. Just as Sam was about to climb up, the broken shards of glass reassembled themselves rapidly, and the window was instantly fixed, like it hadn't shattered at all.

"Damn it," Oliver cursed. "He's onto us. He must've seen that we found a way out--now he's making sure that there are no other exits out of this place."

"Great," I mumbled. "This night just keeps getting _better_."

"It looks like you're going to have to take care of this one by yourselves." Dad hollered, his voice slightly muffled through the glass. Sam shot him a worried look, which Dad dismissed.

I stared at him, shocked. "Are you _insane_?" I yelled back. "I'm in a friggin' dress and heels! I can't fight the supernatural in _this_!"

"You don't have a choice!" he shouted. "Sam and I will _try_ everything we can to get in, but you're going to have to find out what's going on in there and fix it before someone gets hurt, got it?"

I didn't feel the need to argue right now. "Yes, sir." I replied automatically.

We fled from the window, ambling down the hallways not knowing exactly where to start. The whole school building gave another terrible shake; the three of us shared cautious, alarmed glances.

Just then, a blood-curdling scream filled the approaching hall by the gym. Oliver and I moved forward, guns at the ready, while Amy trailed behind, fear etched in her face. We heard the scream again, this time more ear-piercing than the first.

"Please, someone help!"


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: Don't own...**

It was Brittany.

That much I was aware of. What exactly she was screaming at like a banshee, I had no clue. Once the three of us rounded the corner to the alcove, we saw it. Brittany was huddled in the corner, arms up over her face, trembling. Her boyfriend wasn't with her--the coward must've run off in all the chaos. In front of her stood a freaky-looking, partially decomposed ghost of a young woman, who had a stab wound to her torso, and other lacerations all over her white-as-a-sheet skin. Her hair that once used to be brown, was a matted, tangled mess. I recognized her from the article online; she was one of the girls who had gone missing in the sixties. She had been a victim of the Devil's Army.

"Help! Please!" Brittany screeched. I rolled my eyes. The ghost was clearly not trying to hurt her; she was merely standing there, maybe hoping to convey a message.

"Can I _please_ let the zombie thing eat her?" I asked Oliver, even though it wasn't a zombie, and it wasn't looking homicidal at the moment. I kinda hoped it would start going crazy on her. Oliver glared at me.

"Fine." I sighed. Then, aiming the shotgun, I fired off some rock salt at the ghost, who vanished upon getting hit with it. Brittany gazed up at me and gawked at my presence. I guess I must've looked strange, being dressed in a beautiful Prom gown, and holding a shotgun.

Brittany jumped to her feet. "Winchester, what the hell is going on?" she demanded.

I shrugged. "I dunno." It was a lie, but come on, I wasn't going to tell my enemy the 411 on the school's dark past. It's not like she'd understand, let alone believe a word of it anyway.

Brittany rolled her eyes. "I always knew you were a freak."

"Hey," I said hotly. "I just saved your ass. The _least _you could do is _thank _me."

"Yeah, whatever."

I was about to make a smart remark, but Oliver stopped me by grabbing my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Listen," he said to Brittany and me, "it's no good if you waste your time fighting." Then, to Brittany, he stated, "I suggest that you keep quiet, don't ask questions, and follow us if you value your life."

Brittany didn't say another word, at least for a long period of time. The four of us walked along, attempting to form a plan. I still didn't know where to start.

"Oliver, what do you think we should do? Split up? Try to find Van Holt?" I asked.

"I don't know if splitting up would be the best idea," Oliver advised. "Van Holt's definitely a force to be reckoned with. But, on the other hand, I'm not seeing any other options…"

Oliver paused as the school gave another terribly violent shake. The group of us stumbled a bit, then quickly regained our balance.

"It _really_ needs to stop doing that." I muttered, irritated. Deciding not to break up into pairs, we kept walking, each of us scanning the hallways for any sign of Van Holt. We got halfway down the main hall when we were attacked yet again. A large cloud of thick, black smoke--similar to the one that had appeared in the math room--materialized above us. The hallway we stood in started to tremble like an earthquake while the black cloud swooped down on us, trying to knock us off our feet. We were scrambling to find safety, but it was hard to think clearly with Brittany screaming her head off.

Finally, the ceiling overhead started to give way, bits of it crumbling down to the floor. We managed to not get hurt, but when it was all over, Oliver was on one side of the rubble, and I was with Amy and Brittany on the opposite side.

Doesn't it just figure?

I cleared away the dust in front of me, stepping toward the large pile of debris that separated us. "Oliver?" I called urgently.

"Yeah," he said in response. "I'm all right. You okay?"

"_Super_." I called sarcastically, almost choking on the dust and dirt.

"We're screwed," Oliver observed. "Uh…can you get out of there and meet me by the gym?"

"I'm pretty sure there's another stairwell on this side."

"'Kay. I'll see you down there. Hurry!" he called, his voice more faint. He was already making his way to the gym. I turned to Brittany and Amy. Brittany was full out in hysterics, crying. I rolled my eyes, annoyed. This was going to be hell.

"Brittany, get a hold of yourself." I ordered. I was in no mood for this.

"W-What w-was that? W-What is going on?" she asked, then proceeded to sob. I was waiting for her to start yelling, 'I want my Mommy!'. That would've bee hilarious.

"Slap her or something!" Amy demanded, thoroughly annoyed.

Oh, how I wish I could slap her. But, peering down the hallway, I found an alternative. Grabbing Brittany's arm with my free hand, I dragged her along until we approached the janitor's closet. Luckily, that door wasn't locked, so I pulled it open. Amy stared at me with a weird sort of thankful look on her face.

"What are you doing?" Brittany wailed, looking at me in horror.

"Listen, I _really_ don't have time for this." I answered, shoving her into the closet.

"No…please don't leave me in here!" she hollered.

"You'll be fine as long as you stay in there," I explained. I couldn't have her tagging along for the dangerous ride that I knew was ahead of us. It was bad enough that Amy had been pulled into it. "Just don't move until we know it's safe. We'll come back later. Don't make a sound, got it? Don't get out no matter what you hear."

Brittany nodded slowly, sniffling, and I closed the door, locking it. Quietly, I gestured for Amy to follow. We walked in silence, the heels of our shoes clicking on the tile as we went down the hall. Amy stopped me suddenly, placing her arm out in front.

"What is it?" I asked. She put a finger to her lips, telling me to be quiet and listen. We heard a soft, young female voice, singing. It was coming from around the corner. Amy and I turned the corner, staying close to the wall. We saw a semi-transparent figure pacing the hallway, humming to herself. I recalled the girl's face from memory; she had been the youngest of the victims in the sixties.

"Why are we suddenly seeing all of the victims' ghosts?" Amy whispered. Before answering, I glanced across the dark corridor, out the window at the night sky. Sure enough, there was a full moon. I nudged her, pointing at the window. She seemed to understand. "The victims…each of them were killed on the night of a full moon." She recalled. I nodded, a slight shiver going through my body at the thought of that psycho being in the same building as us.

It was then that I felt a sharp pain shoot through my head. Mentally cursing, I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my teeth, hoping that Amy wouldn't notice I was having a vision. I don't think she could handle finding out that I had weirdo abilities, too. Applying pressure to my temples did relieve the pain somewhat, but I couldn't help but let a slight cry of pain escape my lips.

Amy looked over at me, concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I choked out roughly, through gritted teeth. The only image I saw was the door with the inverted pentagram in the basement of the school before the pain subsided.

Amy stared at me, confused. "What happened?"

"I can't really explain without sounding completely crazy," I told her. "but I know where we need to go to find Van Holt." I started walking down the rest of the hall, seeing that the ghost had disappeared. Amy fell in step beside me, both us walking fast.

"Wait. But Oliver said to meet him--"

"I know, but we don't have time. Not when--" I stopped, crashing into someone as we rounded the corner. Obviously, I hadn't been paying that much attention. I stumbled backward, then looked up. It wasn't Van Holt, fortunately…it happened to be one of his followers, though, by the looks of it.

This wasn't good…

I noticed the inverted pentagram tattoo etched on his forearm, since the sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up. I also noticed his coal black eyes, which caused me to take another step backward. The guy smirked, eyeing the two of us.

Why didn't I have any holy water on me?!

The possessed guy did not speak, he only advanced on us, making a few things happen at once. First, I flew into the wall, smacking my head and falling to the floor, dropping the shotgun loaded with rock salt. I saw him go after Amy; I saw her try to run, but he snatched her up into his arms. She waved the knife I had given her at him, but it didn't do much damage. I heard her screams fade down the stairs, and then I blacked out.

And when I came to a minute later, Amy and the demon were nowhere to be found.

I got slowly to my feet, swallowing hard. I had a feeling that Amy had been taken down to the underground chambers--for the night's ritual. Van Holt would be there to sacrifice her to the devil if I didn't get there in time.

I wasn't about to loose another friend to yet another demonic force.

To save Amy, I knew I would need Oliver's help, though. Picking up the pace, I started to run for the stairwell. I got to the first landing when I noticed that there was another set of footfalls resounding from behind me. I glanced upward to see a different Devil's Army member staring at me with cold, opaque eyes.

That's about when I ran, almost tripping the rest of the way down the stairs in my heels. Once I got to the ground floor, I stared up again, and found that the demon had disappeared. I walked a little bit away from the stairs, pausing to take off my heels, because I knew I wasn't going to be able to run much further in them. My feet were absolutely killing me.

I was yanking the other shoe off when I heard an angry snarl from behind me. I turned around slowly, and with dread, I discovered the demon standing on the stairs ready to do some major bodily harm.

"Son of a bitch…" I muttered, mortified. Out of impulse, I pulled my shoe off, chucked it at his head, and made a run for the gym. Oliver was standing outside, looking around for me and Amy. He no longer had his tux jacket on or his tie; his white dress shirt was untucked, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Once he saw me running in my bare feet, he started to approach me. I ran into his open arms, sliding a bit across the icy tile floor.

"What's going on?" he questioned, pulling me away from him lightly to hold onto my arms. "Where's Amy?"

"She was kidnapped by one of the demons from the Devil's Army," I told him quickly. "One of them was chasing me." I yelled, pointing frantically at the hall where I'd come from. "We have to go…we have to get to the basement! Van Holt's going to sacrifice Amy!"

A loud, wicked laugh echoed from the corridor as the demon who had been chasing me came into view, stepping leisurely toward the two of us. Oliver, reacting quickly, pulled me to him, hooking his arm around my shoulders tightly. His other hand held the gun with silver bullets that my dad had given him. It wouldn't kill the thing, but maybe if Oliver shot at it, it would buy us some time to escape.

"You touch her, and I _swear _I'll--" Oliver warned, raising the gun to point it at the demon.

"What?" the demon taunted. "Surely, you won't be able to kill me. I'd stop your heart faster than you could pull that trigger, boy. Don't try anything you'll regret." He took a few more steps closer, regarding us curiously. "Put the gun down, Mr. Devereaux, and I will not lay a finger on your precious _hunter_." The word 'hunter' was stressed and came out quite acidly. Obediently, Oliver lowered the gun, tossing it to the floor. He didn't let go of me, though. If anything, his grip on my shoulders strengthened.

"What do you want from us?" I asked, trying to keep my ground but my voice was shaking slightly. "Why are you doing this?"

"Your questions will be answered soon enough, Miss Winchester. I can assure you," he said. "But I am here on behalf of Van Holt himself. He's requested to see the two of you, in order to discuss some things…"

"What about Amy?" I inquired.

"Oh…_her_," the demon said dryly, bored. "As you've already noticed, there _is_ a full moon tonight, and Van Holt has planned a sacrifice. It'll be quick--yet painful--for her. You see, we don't need _mortals_ like your friend sticking around. This battle is between _us_."

"You filthy son of a--" I wanted to tear him apart, but Oliver stopped me before I did anything stupid. I was slightly confused by his words. What sort of battle was he referring to? And, I knew that I was immortal to some degree, and so was Oliver. There was only a few ways any of us could be killed. We would be fighting to kill Van Holt and his followers, but it sounded like Van Holt had a certain bone to pick with us.

"Now, if you'd be so kind as to follow me…" the demon announced.

Oliver glared, uneasy about all of this. "Lead the way." he encouraged ardently.

The two of us followed the demon, keeping a safe distance behind him. Oliver insisted that I stayed close, so he walked beside me with his arm still wrapped around my shoulders. We made our way down to the basement, neither of us daring to say a word. Once we approached the door leading to the underground chambers, I noticed that the door was already ajar. The demon pulled it open, and began descending down a flight of stairs. Oliver and I shared a hesitant glance, then followed. The stairs were made out of cement, twisting downward into a spiral below ground level. It was nearly pitch black, with the only source of light being torches lit on the walls every ten or twenty feet. As we went further underground, the temperature dropped.

Finally, the winding staircase ended, and we entered a dark, grimy hall that smelled strongly of decay. There were a few doorways on either side, but I did not really care to take a short peek inside to see where they led. At the end of the long hall, there was a large door with yet another inverted pentagram on it, as well as the words, "Diabolus Exercitus" (The Devil's Army) in a calligraphy sort of script. The door was closed, but I could see a dim firelight coming from inside.

The demon paused to extract an ancient-looking key from his pocket, which he used to unlock the door. After he placed the key safely back into his pocket, he turned the handle. He opened the door with an annoying creak, to reveal a dungeon-like room. It was almost shaped like an oval, with torches lit around the circumference of the room. About fifteen to twenty other men stood stoically along the walls, turning their attention to the three of us when we strode in. Every one of them was dressed in black, and they most likely all had the same inverted pentagram tattooed on themselves. Near the back wall, there was a carving in the rock of the phases of the moon. Directly in the center of the ritual chamber ( I guessed that was where we were now) stood a stone platform that was about three feet from the ground.

Alarmed, I saw that Amy was tied to it; ropes binding her wrists and ankles, then attached through metal loops nailed into the stone to keep her there. She seemed to be conscious, but not all there exactly. I think they may have drugged her to make her docile.

The demon closed the door behind us, and we stepped forward. A man I hadn't noticed began to draw nearer to me and Oliver. Like the others, he was dressed all in black, but he was wearing a hooded trench coat over his clothes. He stood a few feet from us, his head down. After a tense moment, he looked up, pulling the hood off.

Oliver and I were immediately confused and very, very shocked. The man standing before us didn't look like the Van Holt I'd seen in the picture. In fact, he was someone entirely different.

He was the principal of our school, Mr. Williams.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: I don't own.**

**A/N: Thanks to the readers and reviewers keeping with this story! I really appreciate it! **

In reality, shock couldn't really begin to cover what we were feeling. Especially because of what happened next: Mr. Williams stood there, simply staring until he changed--maybe _shifted _is a better word for it--into the Lucien Van Holt I had seen in the photograph. Albeit, he was older but nonetheless sinister and intimidating. To be standing in front of this vile, evil man face-to-face made my blood run cold. I was utterly speechless to find out that he had been posing as the principal of our high school for the past year. That was _beyond _my comprehension.

Oliver choice to voice his opinion on this astonishment; I, on the other hand, was at a loss for words. "It was _you_ this whole time?" he asked, bewildered.

"Very good, boy. I'm glad you caught on," Van Holt replied sarcastically. "Although, I must admit, as bright as you and Miss Winchester are, I'm surprised that you didn't figure it out sooner. I _did_ leave more than enough clues behind."

"What did you do with Mr. Williams, then?" I ventured.

"Killed him, of course," he answered matter-of-factly. "No one seemed to notice. He lived alone, had no family…I was able to slip into his identity with ease. He was quite a pathetic excuse for a man, if you ask me."

Well, then. You know, I never actually liked Mr. Williams, but he was an innocent person. He didn't deserve to meet that sort of end.

"Why'd you do it?" I spat, angered. This guy was more of a sicko than I originally thought--and I didn't think that could be possible. "Why have you been stalking us like this?"

He ignored my questions, placing his hands together in a prayerful position, resting his fingertips against his lips. "Separate them." He ordered suddenly, referring to me and Oliver. Four men stepped forward; two grabbed onto my arms, dragging me off to the side. The other two seized Oliver, holding him tightly. I threw Oliver a pleading look. He nodded, closing his eyes, hoping to concentrate enough to put his powers to good use.

Van Holt chuckled. "Don't even _try_, Mr. Devereaux," he said tonelessly. "Your abilities have no affect on my whatsoever down here. You're in _my_ territory now." The cult leader quickly covered the distance between us, and took my chin in his hand, forcing my gaze to be locked on his hateful eyes.

"Get your hands _off _her." Oliver warned acidly.

"Is that a threat?" Van Holt countered. "If you'd like to _die_ for her, that can be arranged as well; if you're so desperate to protect your beloved hunter."

"Waste me if you want," Oliver hissed. "Just don't hurt her."

"Don't be so overdramatic, boy. I wouldn't kill you. I owe it to your father to keep you alive…however, considering the circumstances, I might not have a choice."

Oliver stared at him blankly. "What are you talking about?"

Van Holt let go of me and approached Oliver, looking sort of amused. "It was your _father_, Oliver," he told him. "_He _was the demon I made the deal with to acquire my abilities. He was my mentor, and a great one at that. Very skilled, one of the best in the business. And now, since the Winchesters destroyed him, I'm back to avenge his death. It's only right, you see. I'd be nothing without his guidance. I'd be doing him a favor." He paused, regarding Oliver closely. "I planned on taking your girlfriend's life after the mortal was sacrificed. But since you're so _willing_ to die, I guess you can go with her. Either that, or I can send your miserable, betraying soul to hell for an eternity of torture. Take your pick."

"You sick, sadistic--" Oliver was cut off.

Van Holt went on with his rant, disregarding Oliver's attempt at an insult. "Because that's really what you are, Mr. Devereaux. Disloyal--a blood traitor to your own kind," The cult leader said heatedly. "You and that hunter of yours are a disgrace. I don't know how you even got this far into a relationship, but I'm ending it. I can't go on. Our world will _not_ allow it."

"You can't kill her," Oliver declared, struggling against his captors once more. "I won't let you. _She_ won't let you. Alyx is--"

"--a Healer; I'm aware," he said dully. He walked over to the stone platform where Amy lay, whimpering every so often. "But you're forgetting that I have her power now. And if that doesn't work, I have _this_." He bent down and picked up a blade from the ground, scanning it like it was made of gold. He came toward me, holding the dagger so it laid across his palms. "This blade works similarly to the Colt gun--destroys anything. Including you, Miss Winchester. The blade contains a poison that gives you a slow, _agonizing_ death. I bet you didn't know a weapon like this existed, did you?"

I swallowed hard. Why were demonic forces _always_ trying to kill us?

Van Holt tucked the dagger into his trench coat, gave another dirty look my way, and went over to the stone platform. Amy was slightly conscious, so she gave a startled, horrified whimper once she saw him standing over her.

"D-Don't h-hurt me," Amy murmured, her voice breaking. I knew she was about to cry. I felt guilty that she'd been dragged into all of this madness. "Please." she begged.

Van Holt smirked, reaching down to trail a gnarled finger along Amy's tear-stained cheek. "Shh," he said softly. "It'll be over soon."

A sob escaped Amy's lips. "N-No…"

A dark look crossed Van Holt's face. He stood over Amy, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes. I suddenly knew how he was going to sacrifice her--by using my ability; the one I'd traded over to him to bring Dad back. The other cult members--except the ones who were currently holding us hostage--crowded around the altar, their malicious gazes bearing down on poor, terrified Amy.

"Alyx!" Amy shouted, distressed, suddenly finding the strength to yell. "Alyxandria! Don't let him kill me…please, I don't want to die…"

Except, it wasn't only her voice I was hearing. In my mind, Kylie's voice was echoing with hers, and the images from that night came flashing back to my mind. Because, ironically, Kylie had said the _same_ thing to me that night; she had begged me to save her. And I couldn't.

I wasn't going to let that happen again. I'd kill _me_.

So, desperately, I recovered some courage and vigor inside me, prepared to take action. Van Holt was ready to concentrate, to cause her harm. However, I knew the weakness. I was the one who knew how to stop him. All I had to do was break his concentration, and hopefully we could jump in and buy enough time to get her out of there.

Abruptly, I kicked one of the guys behind me between the legs, and once he loosened his grip, I pulled myself from him and elbowed the other guy in the face. Well, that started a whole uproar as I went for Van Holt. Oliver must've broke free somehow as well, because I heard fighting behind me as I ran. I didn't have time to look back; I kept my eyes focused. With full force, I shoved Van Holt in the side. He staggered away from the altar, just far enough to break any sort of concentration he'd been building up. While he was trying to regain his balance, I went to work untying the ropes that bound Amy's wrists and ankles. Around me, some of the demon members vanished into thick, black smoke upon Van Holt's sudden request. There were only about five members left with Van Holt, all of which Oliver was attempting to fight off while I helped Amy.

I could almost feel Van Holt approaching from behind, so I spoke quickly to Amy as I finished untying her. "As soon as I'm done, run out of here. Go upstairs, and go to the front door. Tell my dad to call 911." Amy nodded, her face still panic-stricken.

Van Holt grabbed me by my hair--which hurt a whole heck of a lot, might I add--just as Amy scurried out the door. He groaned loudly, clearly irritated. He pulled me to him, hooking his arm around my stomach. By looks of it, he was pissed that his sacrifice had been completely ruined. Serves him friggin' right.

"I was way too nice before," he snarled. "I should've taken your life for your father's when I had the chance." Then, unexpectedly, he pushed me aside, and I fell to the ground on my knees. He advanced on Oliver, who was now fist-fighting with two guys; the other three had either been knocked out or close to it. Oliver _was_ a pretty good fighter, even without his demonic abilities.

"Step away from the boy," Van Holt ordered. "He's my business now."

Oliver stood still, mentally trying to anticipate Van Holt's next move. We both watched as he fished the dagger out of his trench coat again, flipping it around with some complex tricks with the flick of his wrist. It was all show, I figured. Van Holt was doing his best to play the 'Intimidating Villain' card. It was, unfortunately, sort of working.

"I think I'll take you out first, Mr. Devereaux," Van Holt decided. "So your hunter can watch. And then she'll be next. The two of you will be dying together, both brought down by the same blade. It'll be terribly romantic, don't you think? Almost like _Romeo and Juliet_. Of course, that's what happens in these sort of situations--forbidden love, they call it. I'm doing you a favor, really."

Van Holt stepped toward Oliver, raising the blade over his head…

**A/N: Yeah, I know, another cliffie...lol. Anyway, hoped you liked it. Happy Thursday! Enjoy Supernatural tonight:)**


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: Don't own. A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews!**

I couldn't watch. I was witnessing what happened next through my fingers, which were over my eyes. I stood, frozen with fear, as Van Holt held the blade high over his head, ready to take down my boyfriend.

Oliver jumped aside just as Van Holt swung the knife through the air, threatening to do some real damage. He swung it again, but Oliver ducked, nearly missing the blade cutting into his forehead. Van Holt tried yet again to take a swipe at him, but Oliver narrowly escaped.

"You think this is some sort of _game_, do you?" Van Holt taunted, as he and Oliver dodged each other's advances--with Van Holt having the advantage of holding a weapon. Oliver smirked.

"If it is, you're not really winning."

"Don't get so conceited, boy," Van Holt warned. "You'll meet your end soon enough."

Van Holt swiped the dagger once more, and Oliver almost got sliced across the abdomen. I winced. This was too nerve-wracking for me, especially since I couldn't think of anything to do to help him. I felt useless.

In a particularly unfair move, Van Holt tripped Oliver so he fell forward on his stomach. Oliver got up partially, pushing himself up a little with his arms. However, in another unwarranted action (in my opinion), Van Holt kicked Oliver in the face, cutting open his lip. He tried to get up again but this time Van Holt kicked him in the side. Oliver rolled over onto his back just in time to see the dagger hovering over his face. He rolled to the side before the dagger had a chance to slice him, and got to his feet as quickly as he could manage. Van Holt came at him, the fingers of his other hand wrapping around Oliver's throat, pushing him into a wall.

Oliver clawed at Van Holt's hand, while trying to make sure the knife didn't get too close to his face. I winced loudly again, wishing that I could think up something to do to get that sick man away from my boyfriend.

**General POV**

Amy hurried out of the underground chambers, stumbling and staggering as she went. She wasn't exactly coherent as of yet, so it took great effort to get herself up the stairs. Whatever Van Holt had drugged her with--she could only halfway remember the needle piercing her arm--had left her terribly dizzy and disoriented. Her vision was hazy around the edges, and she felt sort of numb. For a moment, she wondered if this was what being drunk was like. Amy had heard Alyx's request--to get her father and tell him to call 911--but she'd registered the information slowly, delayed.

She didn't like the state that she was in right now. Amy wanted nothing more to sleep until the awful effects of the drug wore away, but she knew they needed help. Alyx had helped her out, so it was only fair that she did her part as well. After all, she had a bad feeling that Oliver and Alyx were in a world of trouble down there.

So, Amy wobbled down the main hallway, grasping onto walls and lockers to steady herself somewhat. She tried to take a few steps at a time with her eyes closed so she didn't have to look at the room spinning around her, but that plan wasn't working as well as she'd hoped. Once Amy spotted the front door of the school, she practically threw herself at the door and began pounding on the glass to get Sam and Dean's attention. The two of them were leaning against the side of the building, not having found a way in.

Dean's head snapped up, and he ran to the door. "What's going on?" he demanded, immediately concerned. Amy was absolutely frantic and a little nauseated from the drug and running.

"Call 911!" she managed to choke out, tears now flowing down her flustered cheeks. Dean threw a quick worried glance at his brother, and whipped his phone out, dialing the number with all speed. Silently, he hoped that Amy's order didn't indicate that something had gone seriously wrong with Alyx or Oliver.

**Alyx's POV**

Suddenly, I noticed something I hadn't previously--there were a few lit candles on the ground by the stone altar. I dashed over, picking one up, blowing out the flame. Carefully, but swiftly, I walked over to the struggling pair, standing a good distance from Van Holt. I paused briefly before throwing the hot wax his way. It hit the side of his face, and he let out a startled groan, breaking his hold on Oliver.

He took the advantage now, grabbing onto Van Holt's hand that held the blade, while the cult leader attempted to get the hot wax off his face. Oliver twisted the knife from Van Holt's hand as he was regaining his concentration on the threat in front of him. Unfortunately for Van Holt, it was a moment too late. Oliver punctured Van Holt's abdomen with a quick, sharp move. The deranged cult leader slumped to the floor slowly, lifeless and finally defeated.

Let me tell you, I breathed a major sigh of relief.

Oliver dropped the blade to the ground and approached me as I ditched the candle, tossing it aside. He stood close to me, a meaningful expression on his face, clearly thankful that Van Holt hadn't succeeded in his scheme. I wrapped my arms around his waist, my face buried in his chest for a brief moment, silently thanking the heavens for not letting Oliver get taken from me. I looked up at him, a smile spreading across my face. He traced his finger along my cheek, and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. Taking my hand, we walked out. There were no words spoken between us; our actions had said everything. We were two teens who'd already lost so much in our lives, that we were grateful to have not lost each other.

When we emerged from the basement, police officers and paramedics were helping to escort the rest of the frightened students out of the gym, telling them calmly to evacuate the building. Everyone was shivering and scared because of the sudden temperature drop that Van Holt and his buddies had caused. They were lucky enough to not have witnessed the true story behind this incident.

Oliver and I were about to follow the crowd out into the parking lot when I got the weird feeling that we'd forgotten something...

Brittany. Of course.

I tugged on the sleeve of Oliver's white dress shirt, motioning for him to turn back around. He threw me a confused look. "Brittany," I stated simply. "I locked her in the janitor's closet on the first floor."

Oliver laughed. "You _would_ do that."

"Come on," I told him, beginning to ascend the stairs. "We can't just leave her up there."

"Wow. This is a first--_you _actually doing something nice for your arch nemesis?"

I smacked his arm playfully. "Don't get used to it," I warned. "I don't like the girl, but I would be beyond mean to leave her locked in there."

We arrived at the janitor's closet, and saw that it was still locked. Brittany hadn't moved an inch after Amy and I had left. Even now, she was crying a bit, but she seemed genuinely happy to see that we had come back, as promised. Once I opened the door, she bolted out of the closet and down the hallway, sobbing. For someone so mean, she was such a wimp. Being stalked by a spirit was nothing close to what Oliver, Amy and I had encountered.

**General POV**

Amy laid on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, being attended to by paramedics while simultaneously being questioned by a police officer. He was asking her about what she had seen and what had happened in the school. She told him the truth--upon Sam and Dean's encouragement--about Lucien Van Holt and the Devil's Army. She told him that he had been the one behind the attacks at school, and he had planned this whole incident as well. Amy also stated that Van Holt was still in the school with two other students--Alyx Winchester and Oliver Devereaux--in the underground room that had been built over. She expressly said how they were in trouble, and told him to send down the police.

Meanwhile, Sam stood by the ambulance, listening in on Amy's testimony while Dean tracked down every police officer on the scene, showing them a picture of Alyx and Oliver, inquiring if they'd seen them anywhere. Dean had asked nearly ten officers who'd all answered 'no', and by that time, he was sweating bullets. He was ready to march in there himself and find the two of them. Five minutes passed, and finally, Dean spotted them coming down the front steps. Alyx noticed her father standing in the vicinity of the ambulance that Amy was in, and she and Oliver quickened their pace.

Dean instantly pulled his daughter into an embrace. "Why do you _always_ scare me like that?"

"Sorry." Alyx muttered, her voice muffled in Dean's shirt. Sam came over, and gave Alyx a hug once Dean let go of her.

"Thanks for bringing her out safely, Oliver." Sam said.

"No problem." Oliver told him, placing an arm around Alyx's waist.

"Sorry to interrupt, but are you two kids the ones who were down there with Lucien Van Holt?" an officer questioned, stepping forward with a notepad and pen in his hands.

"Yes, sir." the teens answered together.

"He still down there?"

"Yes, but you won't have to worry about him anymore, but some of the cult members escaped. Oliver killed Van Holt in self defense. He was an awful man, officer. He was responsible for the disappearances of several girls in the sixties. We┘discovered their remains in the underground rooms." Alyx stated, remembering what she had seen in there on the way out. She had taken the chance to look in some of the rooms in that long hallway, and saw a couple of skeletal remains.

"Thank you for your time, young lady. We'll take care of it, I can assure you. We'll track down the others as well."

Alyx felt horrible that she couldn't report the murder of Mr. Williams, but they'd never believe the story behind it. She was confident, however, that they would figure it out soon enough, with the principal having mysteriously disappeared.

As Alyx and Oliver were explaining exactly what had occurred, Brittany approached her, a fleece blanket handed out by the paramedics wrapped around her shoulders.

"Alyx?" she called uncertainly. Her voice was quiet, still sort of frightened by the night's events. Alyx turned around to face Brittany, a little surprised that she was addressing her by her real name. Up until now, Brittany had called her 'freak', 'reject', or any other title expressing her slight weirdness. Or, she'd just call Alyx by her last name.

"Yeah?" Alyx asked, trying not to think too much about the awkwardness of the situation.

"Uh, well, I was just..." Brittany trailed off, attempting to find the right words. "I know we haven't gotten along over the past few years; I've been a real jerk to you, and I...I'm sorry. You really saved my ass back there, and I appreciate it. So...thanks."

Then, she did something so unprecedented, that it took Alyx by total, utter surprise. Brittany gave Alyx a small hug; a slightly awkward gesture that lasted less than a half minute, but was filled with genuine sincerity.

"Bye." Brittany called, offering a tiny wave as she walked away. Alyx stood in her place, stunned.

"Uh, bye?" she said, a little too late. Oliver laughed, just as shocked as she was.

"Well," he said, still half-laughing, "This has definitely been an interesting night. I wonder if Hell has frozen over..."

"Shut up, Oliver." Alyx warned with a smirk. She ignored the odd looks her father and Sam were giving her, and approached the ambulance where Amy was. The girl was half-asleep on the stretcher. Zack was now sitting with her, holding one of her hands.

"I'm so sorry about all this, Amy," Alyx apologized. "How are you holding up?" Amy gave Alyx a thumbs-up as Oliver ambled on over.

"Hey, Amy. It looks like we'll have to take a rain check on tonight's plans." he declared.

"I figured." Amy muttered sarcastically with a small smile. Alyx was glad that she wasn't too angry at them about what had happened.

"We'll come by later and see how you're doing, okay?" Alyx promised, feeling bad. Amy gave another thumbs-up. The paramedics shooed them away, and prepared to take their friend off to the hospital.

"You know, this is not exactly how I'd pictured our Prom." Alyx mused as they walked away hand-in-hand.

"You actually expected it to be _normal_?" Oliver asked.

"Sort of."

"I regret that it didn't turn out the way you wanted, but you have to admit, we made a hell of a team back there. That was quick thinking--the candle, I mean."

"Yeah," Alyx sighed. "So, what should we do now that our Prom night is ruined?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that it's _completely_ ruined. It's only midnight; we still have time," Oliver pointed out. "Mr. Winchester, may I borrow your daughter for a little while?" he asked Dean.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Dean warned. Alyx threw him a weird look.

"There's _nothing_ that you wouldn't do, Dad." she said.

"Okay, smartass. You know what I mean."

"Come on." Oliver told Alyx, grabbing her hand again. He led Alyx away from the crowd of confused, terrified and angry students and their parents to her midnight blue Impala, pulling the keys out of his pocket. He opened the passenger side door and helped her get in before climbing into the driver's seat.

"Where are you taking me?" Alyx asked, her brow furrowed in curiosity.

"You'll see."


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything 'cept for Alyx and Oliver.**

**A/N: LAST chapter! **

Oliver and I drove on into the night, leaving the city behind us, watching as the lights faded away and were slowly replaced with the dark countryside. We sat in comfortable silence, enjoying the time together. Oliver navigated the winding road ahead with expert confidence, taking a glance at me every so often with a smile. Soon, the surroundings became sort of familiar, and I suddenly knew where he was taking me.

Oliver laughed. "You're remembering, aren't you?"

"Of course." I replied, gazing out the car window. Like the first night he had taken me out here--our first date--the stars dotted the sky, creating a picturesque image. The moon was full and glowing brilliantly against the blue-black abyss above. This was exactly what we needed after the last few hectic hours we'd just been through. A little time outdoors, in the fresh air, surrounded by nature.

Oliver pulled up onto the familiar cliff overlooking the hills and parked, leaving the car on so that the radio was still running. He turned the radio up before opening his door. He moved around the front of the car over to my side, and opened it up. Oliver took my hand, helping me out onto the grass like a gentleman. The damp, cool grass felt nice on my bare feet, which still ached from those stupid heels. Oliver shut the door with his other hand, never letting go of me. We walked to the cliff, standing a few feet from the edge. The brisk wind blew my hair off my face, and carried a spring-like smell.

Oliver picked up on a slow song on the radio, and turned to me, eager. "May I have this dance?"

"Of course." I replied. I placed my hands around his neck, while he put his arms around my waist. We moved across the grass gracefully, enjoying the music and the clear night.

"This is like déjà vu of the first time we danced," he laughed. "only not as awkward."

"Yeah," I agreed, half-laughing. "But this time, you won't run away on me, right?"

Oliver smiled. "No."

"Promise?" I asked, looking up at him. Sometimes, I was afraid that he wasn't real, that we weren't together. The thought of that scared me.

He laughed, lifting an arm from my waist to place his hand softly on the side of my face, cupping my cheek. "I will _never_ leave you, Alyx." he answered sincerely. "I promise."

**XXXXXXXX**

Before we knew it, it was graduation day. I know, scary, right? To think that we were going to be college students was especially frightening. Oliver and I spent the morning rushing around the house, trying to remember where we'd put our caps and gowns. Meanwhile, Sam was hounding us every five minutes, acting like the big geek he was, trying to get pictures of us. He couldn't be more ecstatic that I was graduating from high school and actually going on to college. Dad was still quite shocked that I was no longer going to be a high schooler, and I think he was still a bit wary of me leaving him to go to Kansas State. But he couldn't force me to stay home; he knew I wanted a chance at this college thing, even if the career path I'd chosen wasn't too conventional.

Oliver and I had found the caps and gowns just in time, and got dressed hurriedly before dashing out the door. We had to be there earlier, and Dad and Sam promised to see us there. I silently prayed that they wouldn't be late; although, I don't think that would be possible with the way Sam was acting about the whole graduation thing. Knowing him, he'd want front row seats.

We arrived as the rest of the class was lining up to take their seats on stage in the auditorium. Oliver wouldn't be sitting together, unfortunately, because they handed out the diplomas in alphabetical order. As we were preparing to go on stage, Oliver came over to me and gave me a kiss.

"Good luck." he told me, then scurried back to find his place toward the front of the line. I took a deep breath, and started following the person in front of me. We walked on the stage and took our seats in the correct rows. I scanned the crowd for Dad and Sam, and immediately found them. Sam was already snapping pictures, and Dad was…talking to Bobby. When did he get here? I glanced down the row to discover that not only Bobby, but Missouri and Ellen had come as well. I had no idea that they had planned to come to my graduation, so this was a very pleasant surprise.

The ceremony was extremely long. I occupied myself by picking the nail polish off my nails and attempting to estimate how many people were actually in the auditorium. The vice principal made a speech about how great the students in the class were, and gave some encouragement and motivation for our future. She also acknowledged the recent death of our principal, calling for a moment of silence in memoriam. After that, the valedictorian addressed our class, remembering some of the good times during our four years at Lawrence High. She wished us good luck for our future goals and accomplishments, and then the vice principal went to the podium again to start calling our names to receive our diplomas.

And of course, my name was toward the end of the alphabet, so I had to wait _forever _to get my diploma. When Oliver got his, I clapped and cheered the loudest. Amy was somewhere in the middle of the alphabet, so she got hers before me as well. After about an hour an a half, I was next. They called my name, and I stood up, walking across the stage to get my diploma. I heard Oliver cheer for me really loud, and I glanced in the direction of where my family was sitting. Sam and Dad were standing, clapping and whistling. Ellen, Bobby, and Missouri were standing as well, grinning. I took my diploma, smiling, my cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. Although it was sort of embarrassing for me, I knew they had every right to stand up and applaud like that. Unlike everyone else, they were aware of how much I'd gone through to get to this point.

After the ceremony, Oliver and I met up, showing off our newly acquired high school diplomas. We went outside to the parking lot, where Dad had instructed us to catch up with them afterward. Missouri spotted us first, and gave us each a congratulatory hug.

"I'm so proud of you two!" she praised, grinning like a proud grandmother. Bobby shook Oliver's hand, and gave me a sort of awkward hug, while Ellen embraced us both.

"Your mother would be so happy for you, Alyx." she told me. I smiled, knowing that that was probably true.

Dad snatched the diploma from my hands, and he and Sam looked it over approvingly. "So," he said, looking at me and Oliver, "What do you two want to do to celebrate?"

Oliver and I shared a thoughtful glance. "Party!" We answered in unison. Sam laughed.

"I think that can be arranged." Sam replied.

So, me, Oliver, and the rest of my family began walking toward our cars, ready to celebrate a turning point in our lives, and the future that lay ahead of us.

THE END.

**A/N: I know, so sad…another Alyx and Oliver story ended. Hope you liked it! A sequel to The Devil Game is in the works, though, so look out for it because I'll be posting **_**very **_**soon. The title will be 'Amor Vincit Omnia'. (I'm really excited for it, since I have some pretty good ideas…) Days in Stride will also be updated. Thank you so much for all those who have been faithful readers and reviewers! I really appreciate that you've kept such an interest in Alyx and Oliver's story; I enjoy writing about them as well. Thank you! **


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